Emily puts on an air

Purple was in her hair

and nails on the door in red

she pounded on the wells of eve

fractured feet are where she tread,

I’m not a dream, she said herself

your free to be for all time

but the corners are not rounded

and bright does not mean it shines,

steadily the pace she did wander

reaching the coin of her eyes

to blindly see with no reason

butterflies eat heart for the cry.

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