Her mind was on temporary leave
and in every shade of a bad mood
that spiraled and crashed, a clipped kite
getting trapped in slow-motion hell.
Contained within those depths
of great sadness, a horrible noise rose
like ground water externally
churning the heap of anger
collapsed into a familiar, bottomless sorrow,
an unending march of uselessness.
Slogging out the last leg of a tired journey,
she had stamina for naught but silence
and envied the forgetfulness of simple minds
seeking some fortune
where fortunes do not grow.
With body language of habitual desperation,
she moved through the world as if underwater,
yearning for sun
with the anguish of the unloved.
Rattled and impatient
with the pettiness of the everyday,
when every gone thing
comes back round again,
like grey teeth grinning
through dark trees, poised
to expose and explode her serial failures.
She watched as blood
dropped out of her skin,
dark red eyes seeing
the world as it used to be.
