all of her fingers
and all of her toes
are as cold as ice.
"like my heart,"
she always liked to say.
but this girl is golden -
metal on the outside,
as soft as ever on the inside.
malleable and valuable.
like the gold leaf
on the edges of bibles -
something you always see
but never seem to appreciate.
always on the edge of
something useless.
like the side of this
empty bathtub,
filled with nothing but air.
trying to decide if she'll
drown herself in this silence.
wondering if the other side is ever
really better
or just another waste of time.