She wished that she could fade away,
Like the petals that decay
And become like dust
Upon the shelves of homes
And through the pages she would roam.
A lingering scent she might be
Amongst secrets of the wardrobe,
or within the old Curiosity Shop.
From each one she would hop,
And find herself on a train
That would run and she’d wonder
If I stay will they notice or remember?
Will my story be told if I hide in the pages?
Shall I be swept away by many imaginations,
Only to lose sight of reality,
And forget how paper cuts once made me bleed?
Then that longing to be evanescent,
Faded along with the thought
And the girl found she’d rather her story was not forgot.
Poem By O. Ryder.
March 16th, 2016.