The Girl with the Blue Hair

I met you not long ago. 
You were a bit dazed, 
a rock against the flow. 
Your light was dimmed. 
Your heart was ripped. 
Yet you have captured me, 
like a prey and its beast. 

You grew your claws, 
and loved your darkness. 
Until the ghost of trees, 
confessed that you were honest. 

A bird you became, 
winged with your love. 
You sewed it together, 
Feather by feather, 
and waxed your heart. 

The day came, 
when you flew away. 
Too close to the sun you came, 
melting your waxed wings  
and your heart was inflamed. 
You fell right in the flood, 
and you were carried away. 
Broken bones were all you had. 
Surrounded by the crowd of silence,
A darkened place called a forest. 

But solitude was your savior; 
with its wood you built your exterior. 
You rose from ashes, 
carrying your broken heart. 

Those cracked bones, 
That tired soul, 
Those sunken eyes. 

But you rose, 
the girl with the blue hair. 

You finally loved yourself enough, 
to be alone in the forest, 
And beasts were awestruck by you. 

You didn’t need wings anymore. 
You didn’t need their distorted love.

You become your own — 
The girl with the blue hair. 

I have finally found you. 
I have finally loved you. 
A deeply rooted sentiment. 
A love so vast it drowns the ocean
with all its shades.

The flame of the sun,
reflected on my skin. 

I was burnt, but
I used the ashes to paint myself. 

The ocean I am. 
The blue of me.