Her beautiful silhouette explodes,

into a flock of birds,

scattering in all directions.

She scrambles to catch them all,

hoping to reassemble the original form.

Clutching on to feathers like dreams,

she prays,

and cries,

and wakes to find her beauty false.

She witnesses the sky split in two,

one half filled with doves,

one half wolves.

Her tears quenching the thirst of one,

her prayers like thunderstorms,

cursing those that dare fly

She cuts herself.

Bites with forceful hate,

pouring her blood onto streets below.

She lays here,

motionless,

watching the sun set,

hoping that the glowing orb,

can see her silhouette.