I wish behind every smile,
there lay a girl,
with a glimmer in,
her pale blue eyes.
She stumbles & stutters,
seeking safety,
in masochistic rhyme,
as wide as an ocean.
I wish behind, this lying mind,
was a fire of life,
one of such freedom,
jest & surrender.
She walks head dropping,
a sky falling,
ghosts speaking,
softly, loudly, softly, loudly.
I wish at the tender age,
of fourteen, they
culled me, along,
with all those mad cows.
She walks knowing she is,
unfed & scared,
she won't turn to see
another of her hearts beat.
I wish I could count to ten
taper the madness away,
instead I fall,
holes dug in past despair.
She takes the night,
lets the stars keep her alive,
she follows one North,
walking, walking, remembering, walking.

I cannot account the years of struggle,
the battles internally,
the battle wounds outwardly,
wondering,
if any of this is
meant to be.
I don't even know
who I am
when I am
who I am now.
I feel like a work of art.
Thrown paint, a juxtaposition
of images, smiles & pain,
crazy & manic, & contained & erratic.
I am madness.
And too often, I am too weak,
to break through,
madness itself.
Madness is me, I am madness.
She & I,
compose a morning sky.

© Sia Jane