Under a full moon she walked the beach
Toes in cool sand, sandals in her hands
whispering to no one,
but the waves.

Safe in the knowledge her words would be
washed out to sea.

Only the moon, the ocean and a thousand starfish,
all pledged to secrecy.

hope was bleeding until it became code.



Taking into account the time it took to nurture these scars

only a few afflicted herself

her favourite knife; she made it in class when she was 14


Wrapping up the years as the memories are shelved

the wrong medication

wiped her storage unit forever; she can't hold onto you


Moving like a reptile through the crowd in her black

this she has chosen well

leather or fake; as long as it feels just like wearing a tank


Decorating the walls with art that would spin your mind

every portrait piercing hard

the dragons soaring; the lines as cold as the winter night


Vanishing back into the tapestry of her warm embers

where none can reach

waiting for hope; waiting for the next battle to be fought

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