she had a lot of things to say

but no one to say them to



so she kept them in paper stars

in rolled-up pieces of paper

in notebooks with pressed flowers



she planted them with every tree she touched

the songs she sung that the wind stole



once she even scribbled on a wall



she wrote on herself

in ballpoint pen

in razor blades or scissors

            

no one heard her words

like

no one heard her tears

and

no one heard her fall