All her life she was obsessed with birds. Her own wings ripped, She would watch the birds fly, wishing she had the very same ability. My blood aunt, The black sheep me and her. I always remembered her with her busted black eyes and her bad boyfriends and her heroin shuffle. I always felt a deep connection to her. Me and her, born into something a little too crazy.
I cant do this anymore she says
With your mercury mouth in the missionary times, and your eyes like smoke and your prayers like rhymes
She falls beside me with her vodka breathe and I can see her scar its jagged and harsh and still beautiful.
She is rhythmic and slow. She walks around like shes dancing to a sad song. I had heard that she had shaved all of her hair off, I knew it was to get ready for the war. I remember that fateful night my sister called me. I knew something was wrong because my sister and I were not speaking at that time. Sara, she muttered She jumped like 70 ft into the quarry. Shes in the intensive care unit, they dont think shes going to survive..
I guess my sister didnt know much about survival. Not like me and Sara did anyway.
I knew, I knew She wanted to fly, just like the birds she loved so much.
Who among them do they think could carry you? Sad eyed lady of the lowlands
She strums her guitar inside of her little prison. Decorated the walls with memories of a time when maybe she was happier. She strums her guitar, but the words dont come. I hold her hand. This wasnt supposed to happen she says, teary eyed like a small child in my arms. This was the third time she had said this. What? I ask her. I was supposed to die in that quarry, I was supposed to fucking die. She stumbles to her counter to crush up some pills, carefully curls up a dollar bill and all the little white dust sweeps itself inside her head now, Relaxes her weary soul. I know her pain, I can feel it like we are Siamese twins connected at the heart.
Your saint-like face and your ghost like soul, Who among them do you think could destroy you? Sad-eyed lady of the low lands
I watch the tears fall. Tears of a thousand years of rape, abuse, and mutilation. I watch her as she says again and again that she wishes she was dead and somehow I wonder if she already is.
sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
I cant do this anymore she says
With your mercury mouth in the missionary times, and your eyes like smoke and your prayers like rhymes
She falls beside me with her vodka breathe and I can see her scar its jagged and harsh and still beautiful.
She is rhythmic and slow. She walks around like shes dancing to a sad song. I had heard that she had shaved all of her hair off, I knew it was to get ready for the war. I remember that fateful night my sister called me. I knew something was wrong because my sister and I were not speaking at that time. Sara, she muttered She jumped like 70 ft into the quarry. Shes in the intensive care unit, they dont think shes going to survive..
I guess my sister didnt know much about survival. Not like me and Sara did anyway.
I knew, I knew She wanted to fly, just like the birds she loved so much.
Who among them do they think could carry you? Sad eyed lady of the lowlands
She strums her guitar inside of her little prison. Decorated the walls with memories of a time when maybe she was happier. She strums her guitar, but the words dont come. I hold her hand. This wasnt supposed to happen she says, teary eyed like a small child in my arms. This was the third time she had said this. What? I ask her. I was supposed to die in that quarry, I was supposed to fucking die. She stumbles to her counter to crush up some pills, carefully curls up a dollar bill and all the little white dust sweeps itself inside her head now, Relaxes her weary soul. I know her pain, I can feel it like we are Siamese twins connected at the heart.
Your saint-like face and your ghost like soul, Who among them do you think could destroy you? Sad-eyed lady of the low lands
I watch the tears fall. Tears of a thousand years of rape, abuse, and mutilation. I watch her as she says again and again that she wishes she was dead and somehow I wonder if she already is.
sad-eyed lady, should I wait?
VIEW 25 of 49 COMMENTS
Happy Saint Patrick's Day!