June 25, 2011
The timid approach of a lonely soul
Readying its feet on the edge of the ceiling
Her eyes cast downward a look of disparity
But the steady digits clutching at her shirt hold her.

Soon she leaves that ceiling filled with her
indecisive footsteps that had paced back and forth
But before her silent farewell, she tosses
Her mind and her heart over onto the dirty streets.

And the tears decide to stop on their own
Though she asks for their presence in order
to ease herself. And they refuse, for she has
called them much too often for them to enjoy.

The gentle swing of legs over the bed, back, forth
She smiles, thinking of what could and should have been
And then she rips it open and her foot falls in front
She steps out into the wilderness with it clutching to her.

She sits
on the window sill
and waiting for
her wishes to be granted.

Soon they grab her by the shoulders
and she falls
into the mess
that she had spawned

She'll hear the people cry, but her satisfaction blossoms.

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