Honey Hopesapper hanged on an oak.
The wind caressed her.
The birds sang as normal.

The sky turned a little darker,
But no one came; no one saw.
Honey doped herself high.

Honey knew grief.
Knew the pinpricks of other’s indifference.
Honey had pinpricks scars.

She knew **** and cold nights.
Her daddy grieved her mom;
Her mom grieved her.

All grieved at death’s door, as if awaiting wolves.