She dusts her face with rose petals, all crumbled in her hand. She rolls them into cigarettes using liquorice papers and smokes them under the moon. The children sit on the bus holding guns. He explains how to pull the trigger back and how to aim. I aimed it at you. She’s good with people. She’s really good with people, that’s what they say. I sit silently in the kitchen eating leaves and twigs that I gathered in the night. I wear your finger on a chain around my neck, this is where I will put my ring of forever ness, a band of hope wrapped tightly around my beating heart. She thinks only in rhythmic contractions, understanding beats and the soft twinkling noises of a xylophone. I beat approximately 2.5 billion times during a lifetime, only it has stopped on meeting you. I can smell fire in the air, I see the smokey embers float past my window as I gaze through the glass. She smells of cheap perfume and stale cigarettes. Cheap cigarettes and stale perfume. It’s all the same thing. She lies there hoping that you’ll hold her, touch her, move her, squeeze her. She daydreams of the future. She tests you over and over again, to see if you’ll come save her. She eats the peanuts one by one and carries on sewing the map that she has drawn in front of her, a tapestry of life, deciding which way to go. She is trying to find the hidden treasure. What are you thinking. Your voice is muffled and I can’t hear what you’re saying, the music is too loud. She screams and looks at me with piercing blue eyes. I can see you swimming in the ocean and laughing with my friends. You smoke and drink acidic substances that corrode your body. Every single drop of acid rain pierces my skull as it falls from the skies. I like walking in the rain. I can see black spiders crawling around me on the floor. You were lying in bed with your children, but there was another child there, it was sunny and you loved me. That child was me. We went to the store and you left without saying goodbye, I called you and you wanted to meet the following night. A muddy viking with a rainbow beard. It’s because I saw that guy again that’s why I’m thinking of you. I think that she’s with child. Is she old enough to bleed. I still have it. I still. I still. I sit still. Lit, yay har de bra. Lit vonskilly, no that’s not how you spell it but its phonetics. I like to paint my fingers and call birds from the trees. Orange relates to self respect. She muscle tests herself to see which way to go, which road to follow. He shows complete separation of the heart. It is thought that the four-chambered heart of birds evolved independently from that of dinosaurs. I draw on my skin with black pens, marking my body to every event that has happened to me. I eat for 15 days and I am still hungry, its never ending hunger that only you can cure. In a bottle marked with poison, he spoon-feeds her the thick, black sugary liquid. Will this last, she asks and her vision is cloudy, she looses consciousness. Her eyes open and he has gone. Flown from the nest like a black crow. She is erratic and still.