descents of the neglected

you don’t see it happen; they float up

and you are unable to cut enough string to pull them back down

until you do not see them anymore: a cry in the wind becomes

a howl of night that the ocean pours into your ears repeatedly

the strawberries that gathered on her lips that were just flavored blueberry

the glow of the psychotic crescent in her iris; which was just ghostly chaotic

afraid to perish by the bumps of ditches; yet not by her own seatbelt

no snake of chains wrapped around her waist: why did she feel it slither

a silent bullet that pierced her bow of nothingness; she fled

so far that the trigger made no effort to ring once more

the sewers should’ve noticed: should’ve gave her a chance to-

one was always at their burial; in their casket

she looked at hers fondly as one felt when escaping a maze 

watched the onlookers as one smelled the smoke of cigarettes

their attention: lacking eyes that gazed at her but saw no cactus of turmoil 

they should’ve – and now they wouldn’t ever

What are you looking for?