out of control, she is
locked doors and
locked eyes
lost herself yet again
dead inside, now
emptier

she scares them with
her chaotic mind
maddening
broken down and
breaking on the
tired floor

she is sharp knives
on blue pulse, and
the impulse
to press down, let
all the blood
spill out

police cars at midnight
unstable again
she fell
she tipped over the
edge and died
drowned

blackness inside her
head, killed her
swallowed
tears that sting, they run
down china-cracked
drained cheeks

instability, it scares
those on firm
real ground
she flies, soars and they
wish they could pin
her down

scream, spit, hate that
they know what's
best
the next day she'll
realise they just care
too much

*© Tara India.