Waterfall

My favorite color used to be red
When I was still a small adventurous girl
With a thin neck, thin arms
Green eyes, blonde head
And I knew nothing of pain
Unless I took a spill off my bike and bled

And you ran to me with a worried face
washed my pain away with a cloth, cradling me in your arms
But when you cried and I wanted to fix your pain
With a cloth or a band aid, you held up your hand
And stopped me, it was in your head

But, back then I knew nothing of death
Until I found you and the place you called home
Where you rested your head for 30 long years.
I laid in your unmade bed
and saw the cracks running through your ceiling
And carefully, I spread, my limbs
my back, my fingertips
Into the mold that you had left
But then I sat back up again.