*Free form, Satsi:*

She is not a girl but
a storm with skin.
She is an
anthracite fire
and she burns and she burns
and she burns everything around her
silent
screaming
to make herself a world
of crumpled paper and ash
to make a world
where she can exist.
Because she does not know
how to live in a world
without war
and pain
and love -

that repeats.

repeats.

and tears.Them.apart.

-and then there is her again,
a girl not a girl,
and her boy
who defines her
her blood
and his bones.
He combs the glass out of
her hair
with his fingers
and they share silent, shaky half-smiles.
She is not a girl
but a hide of life war,
and in her soul is written
an endless night, of scars.and.stories.

but Their tiny, selfish dream still remains:
that they will endure to see another morning
if they just accept their sins
and the pain they bring.

This time

this time

She walks with him in the Stars
and They fight
all storm and
anthracite fire.

(Poem style, uh freestyle? Rhyme pattern: A, B, B. Slang rhymes used.)

Thorny, vine-covered tooke
Leaps to war with fear,
For loss of life is high and near.

White tufted, blue spotted,
She dances upon the half lit fence
Of Forces light and dense.

Lost, wandering mind,
One day she just might
Take a rest from this stress and fight.