Slight like a flower
like a wilted little plant
Swaying with the wind
the trees, and with the chant.
Slim as brittle sticks
freeze in winters chill
What dark thoughts lurk
under her window sill.
And upon her feather hands
sink wounds, oh fresh and old
Scars and cuts among skin's graves
too weak to bear the cold.
Cold like an icicle's hug
her smile holds no more beauty.
What child should ever live to know
that life is--
Forgetful minds let loose
the winter setting in
under, under her skin she cries
she cannot see; it's dim.
The water rising past
her breathing and her ease
the water rises past her eyes
her lungs p-panic seems---
panic sets in
with the darling winter
freezing out the warmth of
family isn't love, no longer
harmful thoughts are here.
Love, my dear, your life is just
a weak and wary lie.
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