pirouettes through streams turned meadows,
wearing empty eyes and indecision… all I gained from this
was a dozen new freckles & a weighted heart.
-frozen in fear every time you appear-
i shook it off , i bled it off in the chlorine aqua blue
that skin(ny shaking girl)
-I'm not surprised at all, and really, why should I be?-
and rocky beaches that bite my feet are always
worth the wind in my hair.
at night I wear all black
& paint starving children's faces & pretend I am Sylvia Plath,
months from death, frenzied creativity burning up all the paper
in my house.
while the voices of a guitar my daddy played mixes with the
speaker box cries of a little girl I knew (used to be) and
the music snaps with the strings as, the neck,
becomes a memory.
-see nothing wrong-
you must be blind.