She lay carelessly strewn about the hillside,
clothed and vapor and a gown of dreams.
Her eyes spoke hopelessness, and empty abortions.
The violet wildflowers around her caressed her velvet skin,
so numb, praying for a sensation to bless her with an impulse.
But they were not of this world, and she was not herself...
Far deeper and far darker than the sun could ever caress.
Waiting, empty for the beautiful 21 gram loss and salvation from what she made her hell
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