she stares down at her feet as the rain pools around it
her shoulders are drenched, just as her heart is
bleeding pulsing healing breaking beating
one and the same, each one different from the other

she spins, arms outstretched
spins and turns and whirls
because the world goes on, little girl
it does not stop, please make it stop

and spins she does
and ricochets off the walls
within her head
and shoots off into the wind

she blazes bright white
crimson, navy, ochre, emerald, mustard, lime, burgundy
leaving a trail of gold dust in her wake
gold that falls to the ground like they belong to leprechauns
and leave the unmistakable splatter of blood
viciously split, gushing forth.