how long have you waited, sofia,
to be seen and known and heard
in the same way the skies know the red of wine
beams from sol's shining smile
(or of wilted roses)
during the quiet hours of peace and love
with the ones who see and know and hear you?
not too long, i hope.
these sixteen years have felt like days and decades,
haven't they?
but it's worth the wait, because
it's the type of love your heart pours out
when you hear sweet lullabies,
head resting on the shoulder of a dear friend—
when you scream along to musical memories,
legs aching with the rush of sugar shots—
and it's for you, sofia.
it's you, it's you, it's all for you today.
the echo of our laughter
lingers in the songs we've sang.
the pink butterflies will never let you forget it,
for they speak of memorials to pinky promises.
sofia, wish on sixteen shooting stars,
dandelions, eyelashes, candles, daisies,
would you?
do it now and for the rest of your life
and we'll be okay.
—
a birthday poem (which was published late but we move) for arcaneangelss <3
YOU ARE READING
AN ESCAPIST'S REPRESSED DESIRE | poetry
Poetryhe said he wanted to see me dressed all in white but now he's the one rotting in it. cover by @satinebones
