Why didn’t they tell you
to straighten your necklace?
Grown up children back then;
they evolved only on the outside.
Porcelain dreams in your vapid gaze;
I wonder why they were broken.
Was it black and white back then?
Was it bleak and weak in your dreams?
Before the heaps of hurdles
were thrown at you;
before all the shattered
windows (for your escape);
when your dreams collided into the
wall and your thoughts were thrusted.
You never allowed yourself anything;
flowers nipped by the frost.
I can smell your disappointment;
your regret lingers as you loiter.
Unmoved. Removed. I disapprove
of your unintentional episodes.