I look at the streaks of color in her hair
The red, the green, the purple, the white…
I look at them all

The same streaks that drop and leave stains on the hills
The same stains that are still there the next time I come around
The same time that next time comes up too fast
The next time meaning the next minute
The next minute meaning now
Now meaning every single step

Every single step a carbon footprint on the damaged core
The carbon footprints that jaws away at flesh
Every single step terrorizing into another void

The same steps I take in the morning when entering the rain
The same rain that runs off the carbon footprints to pollute the rest
The same rest that I plead for in my dreams about happy moments
The happy moments intending to be what I lost
The lost intending to be me
To be me intending to return to the dream

The dream that I later forget before I daydream into sinking my ship
The later hours of the night lying in my bed absorbing the lies
The dream that fills my damaged core again with empty happiness

That strange dream where it is happiness that crosses over the finish line before I do
That strange cross look I was given that night when I stood up for myself
That strange night when I ran because I was suffocating
My suffocation of my own reclusiveness
My reclusiveness of my own causes
Causes that I cannot state

The state of mind that takes control
Taking it upon itself to reposition my ammo
The state of mind the rest like blood on my hands because the old state of mind disappeared

And I look at the streaks of color in her hair
And I see that my state of mind has washed up on her shores
And I realize that these shores will never remove the new sediment of sand
The sand that has so many dark imprints
The dark imprints that smudge my skin
My skin where I lay within

I look at the streaks of color in her hair
The red, the green, the purple, the white
I look at them all