her mind soared
high, high above
in the clouds where her head lay,
where the seagulls play.
her feet barely grazing
earth's atmosphere,
her pants of linen
and white, gray touches
for the sadness she endured.
her shirt a blue
the color of oceans,
the color that you could
dive in and play.
the color that
would make waves
and have you
splash in them
all day. her eyes,
but a touch of brown
and green with gold
glimpses of shininess.
her hair silk of burnt honey,
and curly as they come.
but ah, as the clouds became angry,
they became acidic
and made the girl cry of blue and red,
and the blue wasn't as calm anymore,
the blue wasn't as playful anymore.
her light brown eyes
with gold became storms
of their own, letting the
acidic tears trail red
marks down her naturally
pink cheeks and down her
white chest and white belly.
leaving trails of burns and more pain.
for the red cries from her
wrists were subtle hints
but no one noticed the
girl with the feet that
barely grazed mother
earth's atmosphere.
no, no why would they? the
girl was lost in her own
imagination and scars as
the clouds acidity made
her cry harder, lands became
molten from the
eruptions of lava off
of the volcanic reactions and
lands became wet and
soiled off of her acidic
tears. cries and cries for
help they would never hear, for
her voice was as soft
as the birds feather,
for she wanted help,
but didn't want to scream,
for she would scare
off the seagulls that played
where her head had laid.