` and I shall stay underneath our antique sky

[cherubim]

I do not find myself to be pretty. Yet, some days, when I dress myself in my nicer clothing and my hair curls to frame my face, I glance in the mirror and smile; I may not find myself pretty, but hopefully someone else will. Maybe someone will find beauty in the curvature of my nose, the moles upon my face, or even my friendly smile and soft, polite "hello"s. It may be a selfish wish, but it is a wish nonetheless, and I shall whisper it to the stars above on clear nights.

[cherubim]

I am but an empty shell
made of fleeting fragments
stolen from others.
They are sewn together
with an invisible thread
so fragile it breaks
when pulled taut.

[cherubim]

"you did nothing? hah!
you put the fear of god into him;
you treated him like a pest."

oh but you see, dear father,
I am so much like you;
I have learnt from the best

[cherubim]

a sunflower
stands against the wind
facing the sun, soaking in the rays of light

she is uncaring
of the risk; she still stands strong,
no matter what the sun brings upon her

yellow petals
they shine with dew,
and she herself radiates with light

and though
she may wither and die
over the seasons that pass

the sunflower
rises once more, singing her soft melody
to the spring wind, carrying her spirit onwards

[cherubim]

"I thought she was doing okay!"
and i did too
i thought it was getting better
but as it turns out
i am just like the clouds;
a small whisp
can turn into the biggest storm

[cherubim]

my love,
my emotions-
they're just too big for my body
they swallow me whole,
enveloping me in many gradients of feeling
there's too much

it's too much

but then
there's nothing
and there's not enough

it's not enough

[cherubim]

you managed to capture my heart
not once, not twice
but many times;
your grip held strong.
and when i think all is over,
i think all is done -
everything comes crashing back
and my heart is once more
caged within your pale hands

[cherubim]

with lace woven through her fingers, she looks down upon you -
eyelashes silken, nose petite,
pupils shrunk and mouth pulled to a grin.

she circles you, calculated yet graceful,
hoping to catch a glimpse.

of what? you may ask, but not even she knows.
the silken girl just circles, watching, waiting -
hoping to find something her soul searches for,
unbeknownst to her

[cherubim]

a neverending feeling of discomfort surrounds me. how is it that i am recovering, yet still i manage to fall to such trivial matters? friends fall one by one; my metaphorical scissors cutting their strings attached to my marionette's hand. i am not needed - i see that now. am i doing something wrong? is that why they seem to dissapear? of course! i abandon them, only due to my own selfish fears. the villian in every story, especially in my own. how am i to continue on without a saviour?

[cherubim]

crackly films and soft velvet dresses,
sickly honey-covered biscuits and
a singular ring that hangs around your neck,
sunflowers and daisies and all those inbetween -
but none of these will ever compare
to the warmth of you against my side