A shadow slipped through the silence of my soul — the memory of a thief who once stole more than gold.

Dandelion seeds grow
to fly away with the wind—
and see the sky once.

They say there’s a ghost in the pond.
Big as a dog, orange like fire,
wears a face that’s not its own…
a mask of stone and fury.

But it’s no ghost.
It’s a goldfish.
One they flushed,
or forgot,
or never believed in
when it was small.

It lived in glass.
Fed crumbs of care.
Until the world cracked open,
and water poured wide.
The fish swam free…
and became itself.

Now it rules the pond.
Not with teeth,
but with power.

The koi step aside.
The shadows watch it pass.
Because this goldfish
learned how to grow.

Not a ghost.
Not a warning.
Just a goldfish
who outgrew
everything they gave him.

Woke up with a heavy heart,
Loud thoughts pulling me apart.
Longing for love I thought would stay,
But some things quietly drift away.

Still, in the quiet, I learn to grow,
From broken trust, new light can show.
And though the pain may not depart,
I rise again—with a tender heart.