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She walks barefoot, holding the corners of her white dress.
Rushing into the crowd, the girl says "Good Bye."
The passengers whisper to each other, her skirt is stained by mud.
The person that she was waiting for didn't come. Nobody came, "Good Night."
The subway came roaring, lively yet lonely.
Station after station, she says "Good Bye."
Her eyes are sweating; she wipes it with the back of her hands.
Time passes too quickly, the clock ticks too slowly.
Loved or not it does not matter, we always end up with "Good Bye."
In the Moonless night, she keeps herself warm with her dream.
Dear Peter Pan, please tell her "Good Night."
Only after a few scars on her knees she will learn to regret.
A grown-up little girl waves her hand, say "Good bye."
Sometime she cries, but she does not want to step aside.
Happy, Sad, Confused, Crazy,
Lowly, Broken, Strong and Courageous.
Those are all the feelings she experienced.
Horrible, Different, Mistaken and Hurt.
She loves every part of her personality.
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
[transmissions of a dead girl]i am the
moon: i am
the silver pill
to weigh down
into leaden eyes--
i am the
of the dark.
the stars are
all dead in their
you'll be safe, dear,
as i am the moon,
with all of your
(i am good bye and yet,
you think only of romantic
i am the moon.
i am the crescent
and dead altogether,
i still die.
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