I
you once lived on rooftops where nuzzling the clouds doesn't seem like pipe-dreams no more
you fly kites and run on top of terracotta tiles where the sail pierces through elysian fields
you had freckles as constellations in your cheeks, and your piercing eyes were made of seraphic nebulae
there was an concoction of swirling avidity in your heart, beating but always, always rib-caged
you weren't confined yet you never had sovereignty
you never knew,
how touching the clouds hurls you to chimera, or how the mere remembrance of dreams are a fly-by-night,
how your kite enclosed the reverence and luminescence that was blessed upon the earth,
how your freckles were celestial coordinates that will lead yourself to a paramount supernova
that you're a frantic bird and all the things you see reminds you: you're caged, you're ensnared, you're incarcerated
apparently nightfalls and daybreaks weren't working out for you
but hey little sleepyhead,
just be still and close your eyes;
breathe and your demons will dwindle and diminish
something you should know,
that we are all tied by kindred by means of being contrived by stardust and twinkle lights; and the man in the moon will always be there whenever you feel godforsaken forlorn,
that we aren't limited to two afterlives-- heaven and hell-- because there could always be any other alternate dimension we'd want to wish for; though we don't indeed have to yearn 'till death,
that dim skies are just sad, and dull clouds are still soft
why am i telling you this?
listen, child
no matter what, we are all phantoms
regardless of having a humane soul and a mortal body
we live in the idea of ephemerality
and deep down we would always fear oblivion
so rockabye, sleep, sleep
because then, just for a moment
reality won't be your precedence
but nightmares you can never escape
