i watch worn soles of converse,
as she sprints,
legs pumping - i imagine
her hectic breathing as she struggles
to escape.
the girl, poor girl
she is stunted by her past,
desperate fingertips caressing phantoms.
a sneer complimented,
with a cigarette,
rough words choke pretty lips.
the girl, poor girl
she is fragmented,
her anger spewing upon the world.
why
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