pelafina

A death in the heart.
I carry on.
But the namesake lives and haunts.
Dreams of eyes without a saftey circle.
Grey rooms and blade runner is on the small televison.

Connections to people made of the same dust, same star.
Distruction with loves dirty hands blood.

I'm rachel and cherry and sally and the bride.
And something inside dies with out the other.

How can it be?

To walk without wanting.
Turn from what belongs.

Burn scars, and salt in the eye.

Only write what you mean, because one day it will haunt you.
*n