only pieces of a shattered mind,
exploding stars, & velvet nights.
she declares herself an open book,
but the pages have been torn,
tattered, & smeared.
can she let her wings pull her up to the sky?
a kaleidoscope of colors,
a swirl of wind & dreams.
there is such passion residing in her eyes.
the echoes of a desperate cry,
sunk deep into her character.
she could live in the junkyard.
play with all the other kittens,
sing sing sing and throw memories at the moon.
that crystal-like, sweet voice, yet so sad -
stories of times past, present, and future,
words vanishing like vapor, rising above the sea.
she could sit by the ocean.
let the nights reflection cascade her silhouette
into her own hysteric utopia, into private oblivian.
wanting to be deceived, just for once.
one moment of the un-reality,
just one more day to wear that mask.
so beautiful is she, so fragile is her heart.
that lonely girl behind the coveted corner,
that burnt bulb in a shining array of stars.
