Not Yet

They told me it's time to grow up and put my childhood away forever. They gave me a tiny chest with a brass key to lock away the remnants hugging my heart. I open the lid to discover lost things and long ago memories, nestled amongst forgotten daydreams.

They're all watching me, waiting. Please, I'm not ready. I cling the shimmering edges, unwilling to let go.


Image from jackbarakatsmom on Tumblr.

Moonbeams

There's a hole in my pocket, scattering loose pebbles and feathers and fallen stars; even the key to the door slipped through a crack in the floorboards. I peer through the keyhole and watch the sun falling in slanted pools across my fallen treasures. Out here I dance with evening's shadows.

I've been studying faded maps and tracing voyages across the parchment. One day I'll see the world. Countless more nights to go. By then, the moonbeams would have buried me.


Image from iHeart on Tumblr.