In a windowless room the lady comes of age
still tilting undeveloped emotions
still tapping that hopscotch chalk across the board
fantasies of abroad
Oh widow widow
Not many visit you these days
Even death skips far from your doorstep
Just you and god, lady life's a rotten hammer
A screen where you watch yourself repeat
Life's a shrine for worry sweat heart
A celebration of heartbreak
And with countable scars you'll put them to shame
Some will still join you down the river of bitterness though petal
excuses falling like rain, slow minutes and agonizing hours lady
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