It was as if her sorrow was precipitation,
falling from an angry sky,
inside herself,
always a cycle of confrontation,
what use was she in all her cry?
The clouds held somber deception
a foggy haze that was black
and here a very intricate girl
is likely to never come back.
And as she held his hand she giggled
everything tranquil and fantastic
but this girl's joy broke easily
like the quick "snap" of an elastic.
A million miles to heaven
a lifetime to understand what she felt
a decade to indicate all of her pain
and a second for her to welt.
The grave stones mourned with wisdom
she still seeks that vivid smile
but as her body begins its flourish
it becomes very faint and versatile.
But there were so many people
should she really even bother?
or should there eternally be a hole
where there should be a father?
But he was God in her perception
an all mighty unable to fail
but when we look at her outter layer
what does her appearance prevail?
Cuts in the shape of seams
run in a pattern that shapes the word 'dad'
the cuts help revive and remind her
of something she cannot forget she had.
The crimson blistered open intentional slits
are causing her heart to slowly mend
but since she will not find him
these slices and torture will never have an end.
Then she commits the lethal suicide
he must be waiting her arrival at Heaven's door
the worlds an illusion, in truth she died
on Heaven's arctic white floor.
