she likes to think
she is rain
a drizzle
and not a hurricaneshe admires
a daisy
which she prefers
because of its simplicityhad been fascinated
with lights in the city
how stars still shone
ever so brightlytruth is
most her clothes
are stained with coffee
falling into space
and multitudes of insanity
YOU ARE READING
intricate skies
Poesíasaltwater splattered on these blank pages while she still bleeds.