The war is over or is it? Do I know you as a dirty innocent thing yet? A discarded soft child forgotten by your god? A picture frame made of wilted flowers?
A dragonfly can fly forwards, backwards, up, down, and hover... The dragonfly knows what we learn: the path will never be linear. It isn’t supposed to be.
I was wearied from waiting for you to come around. And tired... of allowing what you said to control the course of my days, my weeks, my months and years.