The sailors don't know her name
But they've seen the way her tail goes against the walls- breaking them with a lonely blow
And not her face they've seen,
but the wail of her ghost searching
Seeking empathy from her victims
But that's only after He's turned out the lights
When she steps into the cold night
With the tip of a razor- seeking nothing
But something to fill the empty
They say she's searching for her heart
It was carried away by the sea
So long ago- she can no longer remember
And so she's a blood stained diamond
Her eyes are red, like an autumn leaf
falling into a river and then being blown
She carries with her the souls of her guilt
In a net wrapped around her fan tail
Slowing her down against the current
And as the wind goes with her,
whispers say the rocks cry out,
Because they know what she seeks.
Hitting the broken wood, she goes,
Into the long bow, retrieving small memories,
Yet shivering away from them after a touch.
Her tears are caught in the ropes,
Searching for an escape,
but as her hands roam the open water,
they find no knot
"Oh," I would mutter, "Of course I don't mind."
But really, I was balling fists in my head, my heartbeat a pounding rhythm that I couldn't stop.
No, no, no I don't mind that you treat me like I'm not even there- like I'm some demon that you need to avoid.
What's the big fuss all about? Well, my biggest pet peeve, I guess you could say. The thing is, I'm so used to being invisible- being treated like I'm an alien from a different world. I'm so tired of being left in the dust, alone in the dark. The dark is where the demons rest... I guess that's why they left me there. Did they misunderstand my words and think I said it was my home? Was my cry one of sin? Did you not understand that I was crying for the window to be opened?
I guess you did.
That's why you shut the doors. Went through your little prayers- forgetting I needed that. Forgetting I was your sister. Maybe I wasn't anymore, you thought. Maybe she was a lost cause. A little child full of sickness.
Oh the tears- "You're great at that, girl!"
You'll be an actor someday.
And they kept dropping.
Those drops of water- and you keep having to take more steps away.
The tears turn to glass. They've been glued together- more times than you can count. But you just let them fall. You do nothing to save them.
"Father," I had cried.
Sometimes he would put them back together. But sometimes when he would walk by, I would turn at that moment, as you took Him by the hand- with that love I envied.
So what I hate most of all... is when you leave my tears in the dust. After all... they've fallen too many times- I'm causing a depression. I'm not worth it. Not anymore.