Breath Of Life
She inhaled,
All bright smiles
Gleaming sun.
She exhaled,
She had stars in her eyes,
That had maybe always been there,
Just too bright.
Her hair plays in the wind,
Her hands always searching.
No one takes hold,
Hands come to rest.
Then they start the search again,
Reaching for stained glass,
Other distant broken things.
It cannot save her,
Turns to churning ash,
New cravings come,
Hands start the twitch.
The twitch that's taken so many,
The craving that only grows.
It's dark streets
Her starry eyes wander.
They dart to and fro,
Restless, waiting
For the next fix
To feed the endless.
Her body shakes,
All want,
All need,
Nothing to satisfy.
Money disappears,
Excuses here,
Believed and deceived
By starry eyes.
No paper,
Nor glass,
Nor snow white powder.
Can satisfy her now.
She needs something,
Her hands still search,
She gives herself,
Thinking they'll give something in return.
She scrapes her skin raw,
But cannot wash away
The bitter taste left by her biggest regret.
It's time,
She thinks.
Dark streets still call,
The stained glass
Still tells its seductive story.
The rolled paper,
Still waves its heady smoke,
As if a friend was saying hello.
She's dancing now,
Everything spinning,
Everyone grinning.
Sweat and shine,
People look strange,
But this is normal.
Heart's pounding,
Not because of her,
But because of others.
Her starry eyes
Swallowed by black,
That reflects the sky.
She thinks;
This is the life,
This chaos and slanted view.
Then there's only black,
For her starred eyes,
And universal mind.
In some hazy dream,
The world twists to red and blue,
She knows deep down something's wrong.
When her eyes open next,
It's to disappointment,
Shame just for her.
The next night finds her out again,
Everything still whistling its seductive tune,
Pulling at her,
Smoky hands slip on her paint streaked skin.
Fingers trying to lay trails,
On her barren skin,
She avoids marks of her own.
She feels people reaching,
She's always just slipping,
Dancing between strangers,
Her dance never ending.
The window's left wide,
Warmth leaking out,
She falls in,
Her laugh slowly fading.
Her eyes wide,
Staring at a blanket sky,
Her legs still in the rain.
Head twisting,
Life spinning,
Nothing waits for no man,
But is the only thing that waits for her.
She drags herself away,
Pulls herself to warmth,
Stays the day in bed.
Nothing won't leave her alone,
Alway knocking at her window,
Pulling it open to pull her out,
She could never stand her ground.
Nothing always comes tapping,
Reminding like rain,
Then laying waste,
Dripping down the pane.
Her hand traces words,
On her unfair trial,
As she's witnessed this done before.
One foot in,
One foot out,
They say.
They make her choose;
What's it going to be?
Her hands still searching,
That constant twitch won't leave,
Nothing isn't waiting for her anymore.
She binds herself to the bed,
Nothing just out of reach,
Sweet oblivion singing to her,
Forget what she's done,
Nothing whispers forgiveness.
She waits,
Pulls until she bleeds,
The red coating her wrist,
Where her small act of defiance ties her.
She wants to get clean,
Wash herself of it all,
Including real hands as much as smoky ones.
She bites,
Kicks, claws, screams,
Never escaping.
Nothing trails its fingers,
Beckoning come hither,
She pulls and screams,
Her throat breaking.
Everything is broken,
Except for the rope that binds her,
She refuses to escape.
Her dreams are filled with whispers,
Who tell her about shadowed streets,
Asking her to come home.
It's not home,
She tells herself,
The place where her wrists are bound is home.
After minutes,
Weeks or hours,
Maybe months,
She unties the binds.
Downstairs to her own home,
Where people look up,
Then look away.
She swallows bitterly,
Her voice trying to apologize,
She can't tell them that it was the whispers' fault,
Because it wasn't.
She turns,
Dark streets calling her,
Her hand twitches,
She aches for it,
But nothing has left her alone.
Picking up the shattered pieces,
Her hands bleed over stained glass,
Familiar in her hand.
All eyes are on her,
Breathless with anticipation,
Her own star filled ones come up to meet them,
The bottle goes back on the shelf,
Where she would never touch it again.
She inhaled,
All delicious freedom,
Tainted darkness.
She exhaled,
All bright stars,
That never dim.