I had a dream that you were hiding behind my father’s face.
A steady stream of disappointment in spite of my striving,
Issuing from that angry mouth.
So I ran for the trees.
Barefoot, tearful but free.
My cream sequinned gown catching on the low hanging branches,
The chill creeping into my bones
I would not look back.
A little girl came running after,
Sent to bring me home,
Or suffer the guilt of her abandon.
Yet I ushered her away,
And sat down to watch the sunrise
Of a new day.
© PickledSparklyMoosePrincess – author