Miranda finds herself shy.
Miranda finds herself high.
Miranda finds herself wanting to die.
Gasping the truth,
Guttural as the silken cord around her mouth,
binding her from the sliver of ignorance.
Miranda finds diseases in her mind,
Miranda finds diseases in her soul,
Miranda finds that she can't see.
The swirling pattern of colors distresses her,
Like the blood falling from her lips,
Tasteless as the metal at her fingertips.
Miranda finds herself looking down the barrel of a gun,
Miranda finds herself doubting the morning sun,
Miranda finds herself damning the liable none
A burial at dawn finds groundbreaking on the eve.
Suffering the ilk of others misdeeds
Miranda finds herself fretting another friends death.
