The Ballerina

The ribbons tighten up her boney legs and up her knees, balancing on her bloody toes while the crowds stares swirl in her ears like a breeze. She steps into the lights as she tickles the floor - she starts the practiced dance they all admire and adore. She vocalizes while she frolics, her lips delicately brush the mic, smiles but remaining melancholic. You worshiped her recital - she fell off the stage and the line dragged as the machines measured vitals. As the essence drips through water: like a drop of blood on the book of the daughter. She's covered in plastic and gauze; the injuries sustained seem without cause. She used to fantasize about a lover forcing her to recover… But he’s not real so her goodbye notes lay undiscovered. Now she's in the dirt, and you choose to act all hurt. But your were the one her pushed her away - and now forever asleep she’ll stay.