relative

her hair climbs

quickly

like a wall

of fire

 

her eyes

stares into

wide open

spaces

 

her skin

speaks smoothly

like a

soulful singer

like the

surface of

a man-made

lake

 

she is

lotion

 

a silver

chain

surrounds

the thinnest

part of

her body

 

tiny links

holding each

other up

 

connecting

her

to

her future

 

she tried

hard

hard

hard

so hard

 

to

remain

solid

 

like the

state

she came

from

 

avoiding

the cracks

so many

cracks

 

walking a

thin white

line

between

here and

everything

she ever

wanted

 

hoping on

the one

hand to

not be

discovered

 

knowing fame

has fangs

 

hoping on the other

for

 

blood sucking

blood

 

knowing she

likes to

get bitten

 

a little

 

but knowing

always

knowing

 

she can never

control

the size

of a little