Bloom.

Epitaph

She gets lost in the song just as easily as

She gets lost in the woods.

Or lost in the world.

Math never meant much but

Lunch always had an impact.

Her life was one of glass

Shaking with the wind...

but steady.

Waking up with a rhythm

only a jump rope could replicate.

Haunted by the feeling

That everybody's living

Everybody's leaving

But her. So she leaves.

They board the planes,

She floats with clouds.

She washes away.

She screams her name at

the highest of buildings.

She smiles because the sun is at her fingertips

The moon welcomes her -

Her only friends.

She climbs the mountain

Walks the street,

The alley...

Finding nothing

But searching for

answers to questions that no longer exist

have never existed

And she,

The sun,

The moon know,

That she will find them

No matter how many woods it takes.

What a beautiful thing.