I think it is time,
The mountains need to lift the sun.
Into the sky.
Why do the ashes fall from my face?
Sleeping in trashcans,
Behind the church doors.
I sing.
Why do you call it witchcraft for my eyes to look so bleak?
"Honey don't look at her."
Laying on the couch.
Still.
Still.
So still.
My feet bleed.
I can no longer see.
Listen to the nothingness.
I dance with the sleet.
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