.

There's fire in the air
and its lighting up the street
it burns so carelessly
and free

it creates shadows on the ground
shadows all around
that glow like the summer heat
and flow like the wind in November

he believes he's got the system beat
and we fight to remember
and we fight to believe
there is something more than the emptiness we receive

there's water that paints the sky clear
with exasperated dry tears
fill clouds and the thunder speaks loud

no shadows on the ground
no sunshine through the cloud
just the daily frown
of hollow people trying to remember
how it felt to feel
that wind in November

She preserves her horrors in her bones
every detail carelessly engraved into her structure
every bump along the way creating a signature braille of her history
a silent story told by the curvature in her body
a girl crying on the inside
wheels of fake smiles and emotions move her
she is a mere puppet to a life she cannot control
the scars are too deep
she is too broken
she cannot tell her story
silenced by horror
her bones narrate.