.:Broken:.

   
 
hard to judge; that's    
exactly how she wanted to be
the greater greatness of  
indecision’s envy
she’s for and against her own madness
hers is that darker life and
at this point, at this level there’s
nothing but torn away faith
 
gone...her eyes are glassy and  
again she’s one of the broken ones
half strutting-half shuffling
creeping across  
brittle shards of glass
rusted nails crunch under foot
absent is the sound of that cross she bears
yet her pale soul knows nothing else  
 
she’s actively on the lookout
scrounging around for  
another dry taste of earth
her tongue...again  
dangling false promises
slides down & away from parched lips
her hands reaching out
grasping those uncaring hips  
 
for her it’s been
too much of the moon
not enough of the sun and here
here is where that darker life
where her soul’s fate is for certain and
her choices won’t make any difference..
not to him or...anyone else
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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photo: Diane Bartlett.