
she won’t be the girl again
again seems too hard
over worked,
redundant
fake
those 1,000 pieces
lost
looked over,
couldn’t really be her now
tragedy, she may never have actually been.
she won’t be the girl again
again seems too hard
over worked,
redundant
fake
those 1,000 pieces
lost
looked over,
couldn’t really be her now
tragedy, she may never have actually been.
cool wind drapes my shoulders,
as thoughts ride tides too high
for a woman like me.
unable to reach, nor smell the
scent of a life,
only read about
through my hazel eyes
obsessing.
no voice brave enough inside
to share what I need,
see
even dream,
proves leaning on another to name
the clouds above me is selfish.
and the sounds of morning continue,
breezes swirl, leaves fluttering
against each other,
while ignited rain clouds grumble
along side today’s dawning.
grateful for the noise,
which drowns, for another day,
my inability
to offer what builds
inside of me, hoping no one
notices the girl hiding.
Sometimes
When I’m outside,
Away
From who sleeps
Inside,
Night air, comforting,
I escape myself
Duties, responsibilities,
What keeps me
Level. Grounded.