Parallel Girl
Hands dance and art spills out beneath them
You speak of love and of pain
Of the forests she wanders, the ones so deep
No other soul could penetrate
She’s living in her mind, an impossible place to draw
You don’t try, just etch the shell
To even speak of it is a betrayal, but this is third person
It doesn’t count right?
Your fingers move carefully
Brushing the tear from her eye that trickles down the page
She’s crying for the attention that she thrives off
But dies off
Then all your nightmares escape your head
And pour out onto the paper
Marring it like the coffee you spilt on your favourite book
Accidental but it adds to the feel
Still motion captures of parallel lives
Of parallel universes
You build a bridge between yours and hers
She crosses it, and turns to dust
She’s not made for carrying your burdens
But you redraw her anyway
Instagram will love her naked soul
You’ll get your likes
You’ll live and die
It does not count. It does not count. It does not count.