She became a hundred sidewalk ends;
She turned around each time, always full of blue.
Her hands covered in red that burned,
a heart turned inside-out,
left beating a single bird's song.
Each 365-day-cycle of sunrises and sets-
a new girl filling up pages of books
that dreamt of never-ending stories.
All those girls, a mirror
reflecting back at her everything she could not see
with those brown eyes-maybe green with envy.
Twenty-nine years of muddied water
washing away the truths that cut so deep.
She was a liar, laid bare by fire and stone,
someone else's aching heart unburdened
that couldn't stand against her demons' screaming.
Each name, a bridge to somewhere
that never led to home.
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