Sky opens up.
Stars make you bleed.
Hours pass, as eyes gaze up.
Captured, surrounded, trapped, embraced.
Totally enthralled in the beauty.

Wheels twirl in the brain.
What is he thinking?
Do you really wanna know?
You only think you do.

Trapped by an image.
Roots from a tree.
He's up there.
But you cannot climb it.
You've forgotten (silly).
You're afraid of heights.

And the sky'll close up.
So just rest under the shade.
Like you were meant to,
Like a good little girl.

© 2006 DAM