haunted by the ghosts of her past.
She can hear the wind calling her name.
She knows what she needs to do
but can't bring herself to do it.
In the town of her childhood
she feels lost.
She misses somebody,
but isn't sure who.
Maybe it's just a feeling or memory
she can't find.
She knows she's not alone
in the dark, empty street.
She hears a baby cry in the distance.
There are no babies outside at this hour.
The tinkle of windchimes float by her ears.
They are gone before she notices they were there.
Her mind fixated on one thing alone,
but she can't say what it is.
She looks like an open book,
but you don't know her.
She knows things you don't need to know.
She doesn't remember if she has somewhere to be.
Maybe that is why she walks down the street at night.