the wind on the bayou

her nose is bleeding
as she sits in the car
surrounded by her own failures
it's all a glorified thing
if you look closely at it
she knows that she's
being consumed by the
weight of her own hubris
so the wind picks up around her
on the gray march day
and she listens to the wind
whispering curses on her generation
as if the universe itself was warning her
that she was playing with forces
she knew she could not handle
and if she kept pushing
it would destroy her

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