Childhood Memoirs: On the clouds

Some days she felt
As if gone
As if dead

Blurred images
Of her past
Entwined

Her present
The violence
Of the small screen

Reflected
In her own
Reality

She pushes
She sees
The blood

Her own hands
Her own culpability
Not running

Away
Walking on
A street without

End

Some days she felt
As if gone
As if dead

The small children
Her own age
Smiling

She unable
Sits
A swing

Wind
Dither Vibrations
Internal organs

Praying
Believing
An exit

Away
From this world
Eyes closed

End

Some days she felt
As if gone
As if dead