Like an image hanging by the curtains,
tied in knots,
like creepers in my veins,
a calendar dangles across my mind.

An unfathomable soul, invincible heart
Yet how blue the lifeless flower lie,
suspended mid air,
fading from morning to noon,
inside closed windows and shut doors.

If only time could look beyond realism and write it's truth,
some answers might have been left in the folds,
tales of a dawn that never met the dusk.

But I never looked back, I couldn't.
Never dug the left overs,
Broken mirror can never show the whole picture.

But I still worry if there were any meaning,
or if they exist now,
perhaps some new stories have been scribbled on those walls.

Now no one speaks, not even in hushed tones,
not even a sigh escapes the breath,
yet like a sapling it grows inside me,
I cut it's limbs every year but can't destroy it's roots.