Ametur Martyr she fell
to the floor and to her knees
the first fix this week
but it wouldn’t be the last time

she held
to the sink and to her disease
let the water dye pink
and make the dirtiest secrets clean

she ran
from memories and nitemares
but she was standing as still
as broken nerves can accommodate

she planned
made her resolution stronger
her last rites were the sound of
rosaries embracing the grave