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the look in her eyes, deep blue eyes,
tells the story of a day gone by too slow.
of a life sat poolside, watching her reflection,
wondering if she'll ever learn to swim.
her jagged crew cut an open diary
of the anger released with a pair of scissors.
the smooth skin on the sides of her cheeks
a false glimpse of her scarred past.
her lips, chapped and scabbed,
are turned up at the corners, as if to smirk
at the people passing by.
she kicks her cigarette butt to the curb, watching the last of the red hot embers fade
and turn to grey.
feeling in her shirt pocket, she realizes she's only
got a five left,
and three weeks late on the rent.
she runs a chapped hand across her barely-there hair,
glancing to the side,
her silhouette a ghostly figure on the
she closes her eyes and tries to block out the
clear blue sky,
the strollers with the loud babies,
the couple holding hands.
she tries to let the air fill her lungs but they won't
budge, won't let the warm spring air
clear them of their past.
and just as she gives up and opens her eyes,
the light turns green.