.
They don't really heal you.
They only help you
forget.

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Thread, to the dreams' garland.

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The toy ring, now platinum.

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When people try to teach me
how to be an extrovert.

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To keep living, to not forget.

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A promise, never made, yet kept.

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a silver thread,
off the linings of a cloud
and the colours of a rainbow
off a broken corner,
and make me a necklace,
in hues never seen,
for all our lives,
we've only been making,
golden bangles, out of gold,
and silver anklets, out of silver.

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I leave trails,
like raindrops on windows-
they vanish, unnoticed.

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