Cristina Hector

Wishing Well

Brick by brick, I was slowly built. Molded to the ground and firmly set in place. So much room, and yet I was nothing but empty space. I spent each morning gazing at a blissfully painted sky, longing to be the artist that made it come alive. Similarly, my nights consist of wishing upon the stars, that maybe one day I could be the one to shine through the dark. Honey has bees, leaves have trees, when will something ever need me? A well made of stone, hollow, and never ever whole. The well and I, we live side by side.