-Solar System-

Packing away the planets,
Crisp brown paper.
The way your mother taught you to.
The days outstretched with possibilities in a way long forgotten.
Fresh brown paper,
Fresh new start.
You'll never say he held you back,
But for a while he did hold you.
Not down,
But still.
He likes the ships,
But couldn't sail them.
Likes to watch the storms pass,
but could never tame them.
Your soul,
A tempest.
That he tried to hold in a tea cup.