she turns into earthquakes
cannot be changed
shall not even try
she is calm
like the traffic at 5 am
on a sunday morning
mind that runs in infinite circles
thoughts tangled and knotted
big drunken words that sound like promises
the paradox of too much and nothing at all
she tells all her secrets with a smile
murders the meaning with truths told
mixed with white lies
fools only listen to what is left unsaid
remember what they say about blind eyes seeing the best