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.