She was a stunner, but that was a long time ago
In the right light she’ll still glow
The scenes she’s seen weigh heavy on her eyelids, the things that happened to her like the marble sins in Sunday school – we filled our soul jars until we dumped them out in confession
Can you truly cleanse the soul?
Or does it depreciate in value with every mile, every dine, every no fault fender bender, adding up, subtracting holiness, mudding virtue, until you’re so scathed and scratched the wounds don’t bleed they just crust over and widen like quarries like caverns, like the dark places children wander off to and never come back and leave no body only loose footprints in the sand and you wonder
Could you have stopped them?
Or was their sacrifice necessary for the doomed fat of this savage race, cutting corners, false bonds, severed ties, old friends, dead relatives, conniving beneficiaries, greedy men who believe in nothing and subhuman sociopaths roaming free through brutal constructed reality
I’m always nice to the drifters, they didn’t choose to drift here.