Throw all our plates at me.

I already saw the world in cherry red.

We shared a cherry, at our youngest days.

I remember, you know, when we’d hop in your dads car and drive off, driving off society’s limits.

I’d blank out, spacing out when I saw your face. You made me feel as if I was floating in space, the galatic wonder swirling me around, just like your hair did in the strong wind.

I guess I never heard you speak.

It was like shattering glass, causing bleeding every step I took towards you.

But shattering glass is a pleasant sound.

I warned you,

Even the prettiest dogs that bark get shot.

Your words wounded me deeply.

But your silence hurts even more.