"Where is my child?
Where have you taken her?"
She lays her head across the floor
the carpet oddly cold.
She calls out for help
from the only person
who sees and
understands her completely.
But she herself, the seer,
is crying in a pain of her own

And the woman realized that
the Seer
Was  her reflection

The smell of a cigarette
The glow of the ashes
The flick of such dust
Fluttering down
You saw me standing
still as a tree
standing beneath the
parking lot's lamp.
Panting.
Sobbing.
Illuminated by gold.
You saw the scar.
My scar.
How did it get there?
I see you thinking.
But I hate that.
"You know it's impolite to stare."

Even after so long
the red glass still ****** my fingers
and I still see the world of eros love
as a dark room
full of people
with glowing red hearts in their hands
Strong and healthy, they walk into people's arms
with happy smiles and kisses
not a single cautious move is shown
not a single tear is shed in fear
I'm sitting on my knees
on the cold, hard floor
in the center
begging and crying
for someone to pick me up
even though I know
that it had always been my own hands
that lifted me
and that it will always be that way
My heart lays on the ground
the glow is dimmer than the shadow people
that walk around me
ignoring me
ignorant or self absorbed
they step on the already shattered pieces
grinding the red into a glass powder
Some people reach out and pull away their hands
laughing cruelly
teeth glinting red from the hearts they have already devoured
but my own is too wretched and tampered with
for even them to want it.

I don't think I can fix this alone anymore.

Broken wings and ****** feathers
the grey dove tries to fly once more
It feels as if it's being pulled in one direction
And being unable to follow the leash
It watches forlornly as the others around it
the ones who had been broken by the same thing
take flight
renewed
refreshed
ready
but the little grey dove
isn't so sure if she's ready to take flight anymore
She's not sure who's fault it was.
The cat who broke her wings and threw her?
Or was it herself, for letting him do it?
The little grey dove
is waiting instead of doing
She knows that time can heal her wounds.
But perhaps the bone is broken
too far up.
Perhaps she'll never fly again.
No one comes to keep her company through out the months
she's made a small refuge, a place to sleep
a place to heal
But every once in a while
A newly white dove comes by
with a bent feather of her friends
evidence that the cat is still out there
While she sits
and heals
and does nothing.

"You're just a kid
you shouldn't worry about these things
she shouldn't have depended on you in that way
stop trying to fix everything
Because you're too young to be allowed
to feel the weight on your shoulders
You're just
a
kid."

~~~~

I always felt older somehow,
always felt heavy and sad since the day
I was born.
The other kids ignored me
and when they didn't
they taunted me
They called me names
'Dog'
'Lesbian'
'******'
I learned to ignore it
and focus on others
to stand up
and let them cry on me
I learned to understand
before fight
and to wait
before love
I've learned that emotions
can be painful
like a sea urchin stuck
to your torso
I watched pain drip from a cut
I watched the red flood the marble sink
and I watched it all go down the drain
washed away by the purity of water
And those voices
I know that everyone has them now
and they told me to cry it out
instead of biting my lip and smiling
I see pain hidden in everyone around me
But I know it's not my business to soothe them
Nor do I know how
The pain they feel is no longer mine
I think
I think
I'm my own person again.

~~~~~

But I'm just a kid
So I can't comfort you
until I'm older.