There was once a girl who spent so much time building castles and worlds and perennial universes;
her arms are islands and her feet are mountains.
The wind is her breath and the ocean her blood but at the same time, she is the island and the mountain, the wind and the ocean.
She is not here, or there, or anywhere but she is everywhere.
She spent nights trying to find her voice. She had it once, long, long ago. But the only memory she had of it is vague and unintelligible; she couldn't even recognize it.
So now she goes around knocking from mouth to mouth, trying to retrieve her lost voice.
She's a dreamer but such a strong one. Hurricanes that would leave her devastated come and go. New hearts are drawn over old, smudged and crossed out ones.
Torn seams and lost faith are stitched back onto her soul.
Her teardrops are the infinitesimal stars in the sky. She who dreamed and dream still of love.
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