Cardboard Castles
Cardboard Castles
You came in like thunder—
wild, loud, and sharp with flame.
Eyes like chaos, smile like fire,
never still, and never tame.
We shared a bed when we were small,
built kingdoms out of pillow forts.
You held my hand in quiet dark,
and we survived in whispered sorts.
But life came fast, and you let go—
chose smoke and speed, the chase, the lie.
You left your child and ran from love,
and left us all to wonder why.
You called me names, then begged for grace,
You ran, then cried, then disappeared.
I loved you through the worst of it,
but loving you became a fear.
Still—God, I miss the girl you were,
before the dark, before the blur.
The one who laughed and danced with me,
who braided joy through misery.
And now you’re gone—no more return,
no second chance to try again.
The drugs took more than breath and bone—
they stole the fight you could have been.
I think of us, just kids alone,
pretending boxes were our home.
Before your smile forgot its crown—
before the storm had dragged you down.
You were the fire I couldn’t tame,
the broken song without a name.
And though I’ve had to walk away—
a part of me still hoped you’d stay.
Copyright ©
Amy Kennedy
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