"It's alright, you can cry?" She looks listlessly at her reflected shadow. There's nothing on her mind, every cloud of thought has left the gray skies of it. She feels like a desert, barren and almost lifeless. If she could cry she'd cry the oceans in to existence and drown the earth in her sorrow.
But  she cannot. That's the real tragedy. Nothing disturbs her. All she can do is stand there not quite sure how to express the endless grief that leaves her like a carcass. A decomposing body without a soul, without the breath and sentiments of life.
"You can cry." She repeats to the rippling water in the lake. Her distorted, ever moving mirror where she does not quite recognize herself in. It's impassive in its tranquility.
If she were a song she'd be a broken melody in a dusty music box. Forgotten and replaced.
You can cry, she remind herself in the middle of a night as darkness hangs upon the sky. As it clings to her like Death weighs on her shoulders and violates her through the pores of her dry skin.

Of course, she never does.

She drifts in the open abyss of a tempestuous ocean waiting for oblivion.
She drifts,
                                   she drifts,
                                                                         she drifts...

No dreams.
No sinking feeling of demise.
Waiting for the lighthouse in the distance but all is bathed in the shadows.
There's not consolation of sandy shores somewhere on the distance.

Cry, she begs herself laying on her bed ready to succumb to sleep. Closes her eyes and opens them to shadows. Obscure and never ending. The darkness is ubiquitous, the only God that has not yet forsaken her.
She walks a few miles in the flatness of the dark land but there is no point to her direction for all is desertion. So, she stands in the lightness of the black.
Sometimes, her young self hides behind her back, wearing white and glancing ahead. She looks back at herself and wonders what the she can see. Her dress and hair fluttering gently by an invisible breeze, countenance straight and strong, never looking at what should be in front. After, she walks barefoot in to the darkness and disappear as by enchantment.

You can cry.
                                    you
                                                  can
                                    cry

But, in the darkness of her mind and her room
The tears don't fall
And her affliction is obscured
darkness never seemed so profound

Grandma with her crooked fingers
Told me all her secrets
She could not speak, she could not hear
Her fingers spoke, her eyes heard all

Grandma with her crooked fingers
Told me to always walk straight
Crooked things she said are bad
Unless they're crooked body parts

Grandma with her crooked fingers
Told me to always speak straight
Crooked words she said plant doubts
Unless they're crooked with natural fault

Grandma with her crooked fingers
Told me to always work straight
Crooked ways she said dig graves
Unless they're crooked by form

Grandma with her crooked fingers
Told me how to live a life-
With her crooked ways and crooked words;
In a not-so-crooked manner

~Moniba.

Poison ivy covers the fences holding hedges of rose. Thorny roses with poisoned tips caress the lover's cheek. Blood mixes with the ivy, a bond to last. The rose's scent still makes the lover heedy and the thorns don't matter. The poison ivy does nothing to infuriate the lover. And love only blossoms, as the ivy climbs and the the roses sway.

Let me die, who won't you.
I don't have any emotion anyway.
Why take away the knife and the rope and the bridge?
Why hide the drugs and the matchstick, the blades and the poison?
Let me die, why won't you.
I spear myself everyday anyway.
I've commited massacres and cruelty of all degrees.
I've conned hearts, I've kissed fresh wounds, I've skewered hopes time and time again.

Let me die, why won't you.
Is it because you think death  would go easier on me?

And I miss you tonight
As I've missed you all day
Darling I might not say it much
But I cry when you're away.

My heart feels lonely and
My mind doesn't talk to me
My soul feels like an orphan
And my love, for you I ache.

And I miss you tonight
As I've missed you all day
Darling I might not show it much
But I wilt like a week old flower when you're away.

My hands feel deserted and
My feet itch to come to you
My tongue traces my parched lips
And my love, for you I wait.

And I miss you tonight
As I've missed you all day
Darling I might not say it much
But I wish you would kiss me even when you're away.

And I miss you tonight
As I'll miss you till I kiss you.