She has no scars.
She needs no wings.
She bleeds like an angel crying for her sins.

She weeps for her feelings and loses them in the rain.
She’s dead in the morning until she drinks the golden liquid that can leave a nasty stain.
She waits, she commands, she’s ready with her plan.
She delivers new children into the world without a helping hand.

We stand and stare and wonder how they can...

Read and leave comments (3)