She walked
Her head hung down
Watching her feet
Move on their own

Restless hands
Grasped at things
No one else could see
Dark circles watched

Her eyes grow wide
Guardians of her gaze
The high red flush
Of something wrong

Stained the hills of her face
Midsummer blazed
Her rotting cage
Death took his hat off

At her grave
Scarecrows drape the colored page
Marking giant mistakes
Getting stronger in pain of

These special things
All wrapped in plain
All wrapped in plain
No one saw

Pale shoulders shake
Passed over for
Shiner things
Brighter birds

With bigger wings
Took up all of the cracks
Nothing left for the faint
This poisoned mouse

With paws on stars
Mottled gray fur
Ignored
She quickly dreams of fall

Where brighter flowers dive
And bend
Quicksand's
Right hand

Weighs in
Low weathers
Greatest friend
Wet breath in shallow lungs

That drown
Her hands
Like doves
Scarecrows drape

The colored page
Gaping selfish mistakes
Grinning wider each day
Growing stronger in pains

Of these special things
All wrapped up in plain
An imbeciles glory day
Spitting coins at the fade

Of these special things
Twilight final soft claim
All wrapped up in plain
All wrapped up in plain
These special things