Her hair
Flew behind her
Whirling around her head
Thorns
Snagged at her numb hands
As she pushed past
Tripping over
Endless stacks
Of twigs
Cracked, and withered
Just like her bleeding palm
Blood slashed down her arm
Gleaming red
Trickling down her skin
The burnt grass
Nibbled at her ankles
The towering weeds
Trapping
Her bare, bare feet
She stopped
A sparkling flicker
In her bloodshot eyes
Her feet skid to a stop
The dirt around her
Twirled into the air
The leaves smacking
Against her legs
The trees groaned
Under the weight
Of their heavy branches
And the wind, was quiet
Motionless, still
Respectful
Of her thoughts
She stopped
And suddenly,
She knew.
YOU ARE READING
The Girl
PoetryShe was beautiful. She was happy. She was a bright prism of colors. She was a sizzling firework of surprises. She lit up everything she walked past, with her bright, dimpled smile. They thought she was perfect. Until her world came cra...
