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she is tired. she is finished with the ways you throw her fowards and backwards, she's done with the ways her body belongs to everyone but her and remains a slipped promise from her own fingers.
she's completely tormented and you watch and do nothing. you slit her throat and she smiles
she feels nothing but this nothing, this nothing is the very thing that will make her okay.
she loved she's lost
she grows. and falls, and roots, and wilts. she pleads with the thunder and receives lighting, she tries and tries even more
questions if it'll ever be enough it is
she says to the sunshine
do not give me your dry sorries or your wet goodbyes because i do not want them or need them
she is worn,
but promises to pick herself up again she's never broken her promises
