1.


She hid her white Mohawk under
a purple umbrella she used to block
out the sun. She slid into
a bus seat and pressed her blood
red colored lips together. She was alive,
that was all she could ask for
at that moment.


2.

The spiders were starting a family
on the ceiling,
in the corner. The paint was starting
to peel. She moved in, anyway.
She locked up the thoughts of you
in a small safe and
hid it under the bed.

She would not cry. Her eyes were
bloodshot & empty.


3.

Three wishes, and that couldn't
even start to help. Three stars
in the sky. Three scars on her thigh,
and five reasons why she should move away

Away from it all. It didn't matter,
in the end. In the end

You kept appearing; You kept

Haunting her.

4.

A year later and she had a pet
tarantula; She hid Polaroids
of you in the dirt (with her skinny,
bare hands).

A year later and she was
pulling out her hair. She was
whispering secrets to her arachnid,

and wishing, hoping
you weren't alive

(existing)

                   anymore.