prickling her skin is a whiplash of wind
her cry of euphoria is cold draughs
guilt pushing her down until shes been pinned
tangled hair is captured in photographs
the gentle rain intertwined with her tears
the golden light falls upon her soft skin
no more has she cried the screams that she hears
no more she wallows, for fear of her sin
caressing her fingers upon her death
on the broken staircase she sits pretty
her shrieks in the dark, just a waste of breath
she can’t look back, plunging into pity
never-mind the darkness, she cannot see
the pain the she carries has been set free