The world outside her window

She sat near the window, looked at the sky
Nothing has changed; everything is still the same
Same stars that she could see, whispering something on her lips
Stagnant moonlight flashing a weary smile,
Slowly crying blood and tearing a part.
Same darkness; a gloomy night
Three hundred and sixty five days of no sunshine
Floating colored lights, sprinkled by Tinkerbelle
An atmosphere of smoke, followed after
No trace of polar express, a childish dream waiting forever
No shooting stars to carry her, in a hole of wishful hopeless
She saw fireflies, dancing with the colorful dust in the sky
All of it inhaled the welcome of another gift
Her ears were touched; invaded by the waves the transmit her feelings
The waves the carries her words to the sea
The waves that brings the world to her eyes
An eyes that will be closed forever, to see what is she wanting
The luminosity of the sky blinds her to darkness
She grabbed the lights and dancing fireflies
But she was wounded
Too stupid to think she could actually hold those with her bare hands
The external wounded part flowed within her veins
The blood invaded her system as well as her spotless brain
She stopped
Stopped the breathing of her eyes
Stopped the singing of her brain
Stopped the crying of her hand
And stopped the dancing of her heart
Blood flowed from the holes; glittering on its own.
She grabbed the blood and blew it to reach the sea, the wind, and then the stars
But the waves blocked it
She sat with her heart flowing; beating as fast as an earth’s revolution
She looked at the stars
She couldn’t see it as she opened her eyes…
Is there any way she could touched the fire?
Can she dance with the fireflies?
Only Tinkerbelle could answer…
She sat near the window, looked at the sky…
Still the same sight
Still the same feeling
Still the same being
Still the same stars, lights, moon and fireflies.

jan