with her crooked hands, much to big for her
bony wrists that are marked with (razor) scars
and piano-playing fingers with the dusty ivories
lurking in the cluttered guest room.

did you ever think a person could
feel so much then suddenly
feel nothing at all?

a pencil tucked behind the left
ear, so utterly wrong (off pitch),
nose burried just like Belle
in her first ever script.

did you ever think a person could
be so lost, then suddenly
remember she's found?

singing songs, sneaking stares,
sitting on last years cut up stairs.
eyes glazed over with directions just
forgotten in the mind-numbingness.

did you ever think a person could
hurt so much then suddenly
be just fine.

maybe it's just a facade.

the last of the fictitious facades.