her silent monologue inside the cage of her mind leaves fleeting expressions catapulting across her vacant face like a strange circus act the pasty face clowns in silent repetition weakly grin as they grind through the dance the lovely high wire girls seeking the perfect tuck and roll her expressions move through this deranged carnival of the mad again and again never releasing its warped players to the solace of privacy's ease over and over they dance and roll
her lips stumble through misbegotten phrases ten word haiku's written by the voices in her mind written in lipstick on the mirrors of gas station restrooms and truck stop shower stalls haiku's of loves desperado warring against loneliness the heart dose not actually make a sound when it breaks
her hearts deeper waters like tidal pools in moonlight the surface reflects the beautiful sky above but in its cool depths other things live some have no name
her silent monologue slows and fades away the exhausted clowns of her madness laughter crawling to lay their pasty white faces in reflection of sleep the high wire girls to dressing rooms where they moan for long departed heroic villains who were last seen folding up diabolical schemes and her silverware and making for the sun coast where you can find them on beaches of paradise sipping cool water under a neon moon
she slips into slumber and dreams sweetly of all these players in her silent minds story she loves her madness as she loves the rain