her eyes were always open
when you thought they were closed
because subtlety was her specialty
but not yours.
you smiled at her
and she would smile back
but it never met her eyes
and it never quite met yours.
you sent her empty promises
and words from hollow trees
she's aware that you don't care
she knows.
you treat her like a pretty thing
like a pretty little lamb
she's pretty, yes, but not ignorant
and she turned her back to you.

you can't blame her for your mistakes.

it was an exciting prospect
at first.
and then it became
hierarchies
and numb feelings and
several tragic cases
of teenage vanity.

some of them were so
caught up in themselves.
others were caught
in their minds,
cold and watching,
waiting,
for it all to end.

it was all about two things:
beauty and grades.
nothing in between.
perhaps we cried
over the shades of gray
that never were.

our hearts sunk with dread
the planes swarmed
and bombs dropped overhead

and we counted them
as they hit the ground.
and we counted the screams
as they hit the clouds.
and we counted the bodies
as they fell down.

and we watched the smoke
that killed the sun.
and we watched their tied feet
as they tried to run.
and we watched the soldiers
as they went from all to none.

and we grew weary
as our shoes stepped over dust.
and we touched fingertips
young skin in cuts.
and we looked ahead
as the proud town rusts.

we settled in before sunset
the planes swarmed
and we prepared to do it again.