She grips so tight, as tight
white, white sheets curled in a ball, pleading
to someone who ran away days ago
crying to God the lyrics of a song
that made her a kid again
"Where is my baby and the understanding
that I was supposed to bring here?
Where will I be allowed to touch
her sweet, sweet face and look upon her father's-
looking at me, with what had disappeared
before the green turned yellow, orange
along the cliff we wept upon."
A crystal ball
so shamefully shattered in such reflecting bright light
from a bedside mirror that had traced a name in dust
along carefully painted borders
near the private drawers living in her dresser
has gone to pieces
"Daddy please save me
Pity me, please your princess
Make this falling dark go away
Save me
Save me
Another day"
Another day that loves me
more than the day before all of the leaves changed
to the colors that make these sheets
the paint by number books that made you so proud
of the angel that opened the gifts you gave me