god

nobody that looks

at her

ever stops to wonder

why white porcelain

does not crack

(it does).

nobody that loves

on her

knows her heart

and the words she whispers

to the moon

(she screams).

she is broken -

on the inside.

to the world she is

a statue.

she is a dreamer -

in her soul.

to the naked eye she is

vanity.

she holds the world

between the folds

of her robe,

and when asked -

she bows.

her sad eyes

meet the ground

where her fate

lies

just like the shattered

remnants

of the ones

who stood proudly

(before her).