Sensitive
© 2003 Black Tangled Heart

Inside the heart of a sullen child
Lies white pills, nightmares, chapped lips, bitten fingernails
Speech slurred by plastic inserted between
straightened teeth and turbulent tongue
Awkward, pale body blossoming into itself
She hates the unruly curls that brush her cheeks
Avoiding fashion magazines - finding solace in musty novels
And loud rock music
Prose flows from her skilled hand and vivid
Imagination - she lives inside
A shifting dream of crimson and black
Now and then the razors kiss her skin
Blood droplets shining
on tender ivory arms and shins
Now and then she cries into
Her amethyst pillow until
sleep settles its numbing hands upon her
She has not the perfect life
But when she smiles, the angels sing
And life seems, albeit painful, simply sweet