Friday 9/24/2010 12:22:00 AM

she wore her chalk in outlines. absent autumns. faces lacking eyes. no leaves. just naked trees. leaning toward the ground. the dark always runs faster. Than the fastest i can. it always catches up. and i try to run. it overtakes me. and i am glad it has. i can lose. and be done with it.

all of her stories are suicides. all of her heroes are lamed. she says it's not her fault. that the world is impatient. comes too quick. she can't keep up.

she plucks the strings on the neck of the moonlight. an orchestra of could have beens. await her lyrics. nothing. she is empty.

the basket falls to the wolf. the picnic goes to the pig. the fairy tale ends in a flurry of why.

she insists that she knows me, but i can't see how.

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