Why must I remain closed, confined within dust and memories? Oh, I dream of seasons unchained, where my feet tread upon the wooden dance of open air. Each drawer a corridor to a dream muffled, whispered into the silence of shadows that kiss me gently.
I watch. Pages tear in my heart as dreams bleed ink, only to be hidden under the veil of secrecy. Oh, how I wish to speak, to unravel the fabric of night whispers turned day distrust. Keep hold of the words not said.
Listen close to my vines, dare you not. I flourish with dirt dreams sprinkled. A longing to dance beyond soil purities, dew drops pure secrets I behold in bloom. Yet, whisper I folly of leaving to shade.