now she had her breath again. after a fullmoon's night that was spent with pretty strangers and rose quartz liquids and then on the windowsill with papers and pencils all sharpened but voiceless, she was braving the sunlight. braving was a word too great but she carefully led her milky hand towards the light spot and watched the reflection of the glitter she had painted her nails in like fragments of confetti.
there was something in the room that still told of narcotic kisses, lavender oil, the vegetarian rice dishes, the children's belief, the dances, the promises whispered, the butterflies, the innocence.
she was still there (yet fragile, which made it impossible to handle her, right?) but her paperheart had words written all over it now that told her to never love a wild thing and not believe in promises and she was wailing just because she knew it before, she knew it all back then before she let him tame her. Before he made her believe in something so much that would just fade away like feathers in a spring wind when he had made it seem permanent.
she had never believed in love much - love of course for flowers and the skies, and birds and the smell of sunlight and poetry and fullmoon nights and rose petal tea- but relationships had always seemed surreal to her, even the happy ones. whatever may come may come she had thought and laughed off each boy that came with flowers and promises. untill he came along and made her believe in it all and rewarded her with honey kisses and his eyes that looked at her as if they had never seen something quite like her. sometimes she had still wondered how easily she had let him catch her but she thought she had let it happen so she could kiss him whenever she wanted to.
but it all changed before they both could see it- he with his fears that he turned into other people's words and beliefs just to have something to hold on to and for the first time, feel something that he wanted to mistake for hisself so much. and then one day he woke up and the heart was gone. how shallow she just looked and he wondered what he'd ever seen in her when in fact, he didn't even see her at all after all this time. he didn't know about her books, full of poetry and quotes, words that people said without even knowing, the truth in animals' eyes, the songs of the moonlight, theories of making the world a better place with sweetness, and plans to fold a hundred paper cranes to put up in a tree to make someone wonder or smile. he just couldn't see her anymore. I don't know what you put into the word forever, to me it means you don't just change your mind.
he left her near the animal shelter like a cat you didn't want to take care of anymore. she went there and looked into their eyes that day and she understood them in their confusion and bravery and she wanted to take them home with her so they could tell stories of fading ghosts and run away and never be caught again. you tell me you are my friend but what kind of friend does that.
she bought herself strawberry milkshakes and wandered around town, like she had done before, and although she felt amputated for the part of her soul that was missing, somehow it felt as if it had never been any different. she looked at the lovers with their narcotic kisses and children's belief and just wanted to tell them run. or maybe it was just not for her.
she was still there, dressed in lace, surrounding herself with the lemony scent of spring, with her paper cranes (they were about thirty now) and put all the words that were left unsaid now into silent guitar songs. she was falling down the rabbit's hole and she still believed what came afterwards would be wonderland. I just thought you would be there with me. the one that had one day woken up and decided to leave the girl alone, the one he had called his dream, his fairy, his forever not even a month ago. and some day he would realize he had lost her, too.