they peel her skin back
trying to get closer to her blue
she is
a soul-drifter, & almost
always leaves the light on.

the phantoms in her head
are not for sale.

and she can live vicariously
through butterflies all she wants
but dead leaves will always steal
her dreams as the winter in her
mouth caves in. you know where
she's been.

and where she's still going.

but noone can touch the sadness
even as they fondle her secret parts
and when the screams become nothing
more than laughter

there won't be anything large enough
to shut her up

her endless journey with
no direction, misguided intentions
is not yours to own.

she is
a soul-drifter, & almost
always leaves the light on.

08/15/2008

Posted on 08/15/2008
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