I guess this is where the road ends. Where will you go? I’ll sit here at this crossroad… I’ll sit here for a while… maybe forever. And the sky it was always too wide too vast and clear for me. Suffocating bringing me to my knees. Grinding my face into the dirt. Ashes cover me cover you. Except I stayed was buried under while you kept on kept running. I tried to raise my head only for it to be brought low once more. Broken hands. Broken feet. Will they ever be fixed? I wonder while knowing no no never. Wooden hands and wooden feet. And this puppet I have become or perhaps always was. One day it will burn. I stare at the sun allowing it to blind me pretending that it’s burning glare is kindness. I wonder if that is love? If that is what it’s like? And when I burn I wonder when I am ash if the wind will take me up into that sea that ocean above me that made it hard to breathe. And yet I can’t help but think that my ashes will never stir that no wind will take them up or anywhere nothing will be moved or grow from them. Mother please become wind become thunder lightning all that moves and is. Just please… little one little girl don’t stop but you already have and not a whisper of you shall there ever be.