We used to talk the way we breathe,
without finding the need to search for the keys
Oftentimes I catch myself rummaging through my pockets,
only to fumble through the empty memories
We were spectres living in the shadows of our own,
carrying sacks on our backs with burnt down corset bones
We cased ourselves in beeswax and made graveyards our home,
wondering where the comfort had been all along
We used to dance around our own wonderland,
a field of lilacs and roses where our dreams began
But now I lie awake in the pale moonlight,
wondering where we’d gone wrong or if there’s a way to make it right
We were sandcastles and candles that never last too long,
either swept away from the shore or melted from the flame alone
We made ourselves from cesspool of sins and all the enemies of hope,
walking through tightropes and sleeping in war zones
We used to love each other like the skies to the mountains,
kissing its icy peaks though forbidden by fate
Lately I’ve been wishing we could go back to the days,
authored by the cruelest of our mistakes
We were dangerous creatures, the downfall of tomorrow,
living our fantasies to escape our own sorrow
We carved ourselves from lies and splashed our walls with colors,
We had a world so beautiful we forgot it wasn’t real at all
Fransivan MacKenzie is a tiger princess who swallows words for a living. Just kidding! F. MacKenzie is an aspiring novelist and a teenager who has been learning the game of rhymes and deadly metaphors since she was six. She is currently an associate editor of her school paper under the category of feature writing. She is also a mental health advocate, a thespian, and an absolute fan of Grey’s Anatomy. More than anything else, she loves the sky, the smell of the earth before it rains, and a warm coffee at five in the morning.