an empty shadow of unfulfilled promises,
a legend passed down from so many mouths
that the lips--
those crimson lips--
have so twisted the words that are me
that I am not me anymore.
the closet in the corner,
full of shadows,
You creep over, afraid of what lies within.
You fling open the door to find
And your fears drift away,
dandelion seeds in the wind,
to root somewhere else.