Helena
You spoke like a songbird had taught you to speak. Forming each word into melodies that danced off your tongue. Thirsty, I drank them all up. And at night I would wrap my mind around all of your arts, wishing that my body could do the same.
Draw a picture of a thousand colours, the very insides of your mind. A swirling cosmos of your own internal galaxies stretching infinitely within yourself. Rejoice in the colours and magic you are.
I spent all my time on you. I spent all my heart on you. I spent all my thoughts on you. My God are you difficult.
'Roar!' screamed the blonde haired excitable little boy. 'I'm a dinosaur!' I sighed. I wish I could be so easily amused.
Are they really themselves or just a creation of everyone else?
A formulation of what is expected and desired and mirrored and constructed.
False to the very core.
They are not themselves.