Open the door – take the wild out of me and you shall see nothing new, but a little person, skipping meals and dreams.
One little girl who is not human, who is not a flower, but something fearsome with a pair of new eyes.
I am alone, very much alone, more than the pirate and my only happiness is looking through the blade of the knife and watching the green fingers and squirming lights.
Sometimes I forget and dance and drink unholy water and pretend to be his mother, from afar.
Will the story be a fairy tale? Will I have an end? Will the tiger swallow the lily?
I was made to fight and laugh and cry but I was never made to come too close and if I do it all goes to smoke and if I blow up the smoke I am left with a white piece of paper.
I am his dream, I am his dream.
Makes no difference who you are, if you wish upon a star…