23.5 miles of rain

tears rush
down her face,
lavender with
distress,
a marathon:
racing to see
who gets
to the bottom
first.
she is unable
to face her own
words that scar
the ivory paper,
delicate and
striking as they are.
the scarlet capital letters
remind her of him
looming over the
naiveties of the world
posing an empty, yet
powerful threat.
it is as if she is also
a letter on a page,
violently helpless,
praying for someone
(something, at least,
dear God, take pity)
will spare a piece of
remorse, prayer, even
love? for her.
- bluedisch.'s blog
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YANKEESgirl