Snow Angels With Torn Wings

by DiscardedHarmony 4/14/2010, 6:06 pm

We were the blue lines living in the
notebooks without the paper or pencil
marks to mar us.

We were capital letters that
pushed and shoved and kicked and bit to get to the front of the line,
where maybe,
just maybe,
we could form something of purpose.

And people used to compare us
to the clouds that danced between someone's eyes, or the pitter-pattering
of the rain on tin roofs;
but that was before neverland
swallowed you without unhinging its jaws.

That was before the trees bent beneath
your breath,
with a glance sweeping the snow angels from the ground,
and we couldn't breathe for the
perfection of separation.

That was before we knew.