her heart shows
transparent realties,
where emotions
have stretched thin-
like butter
on too much bread.
there is not enough
to pass around.
and hands construct
origami leaves,
stained with paper cuts;
to let them fall
one by one,
only to be crushed
under blackened boots.
she disconnects herself,
cell by broken cell;
unraveling the threads
that society frayed.
and lets herself drift
into gasoline stained breezes;
her body droops
into those delicate
three leaf clovers
that turn to ash.
Bronze trophy winner
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