gracefully,
standing upon discarded bodies as the world casts a shadow on the tasteless display.
a girl,
watching herself like strangers do in tall buildings through windows,
the lamplight being the only echo of familiarity; a sense of safety,
flickers off,
leaving the cold grey of the night to be her dearest company.
the peoples faces, frozen beneath the hem of her dress, read a quiet howl that makes the silent night turn away.
voices in her head replay the same dull, lifeless film:
"you can't keep pushing us away"
"we can work this out"
"it will be okay"
she locks herself behind puffs of smoke,
and somewhere in the clouds it's always raining a slow and endless drizzle.
and she keeps burying,
burying it all away,
till the morning sun sheds light on what she refused to believe; that it was all her fault.