MourningKitten

i stitched stars into my sleeves,

so i could wear the night to bed—

but the moon kept whispering

all the things i never said.

tea went cold in porcelain dreams,

books fell asleep with a sigh,

and i—half ghost, half girl—

watched my shadow learn to cry.

i keep love in glass jars,

labelled with dates i forget,

and water dead flowers

just to feel soft regret.

if you see me in a memory,

let it rain, but not too loud—

i only dance when no one’s watching,