Day TwentyOne.

Once, she stopped wishing on falling stars.
Letting them fall right by without a second glance,
Letting them fall right by without a second chance.
Because wishing wasn't working and her glass was empty and broken,
And she was tired of relying on sparks of possibility when everyone else had a blazing inferno.
Once, she allowed herself grave gratification,
The most horrible smudges on her beautiful canvas,
The seconds of satisfaction worth every scar.
Because nothing else would erase the ache in her system,
And she was sick of compulsion, she craved liberation.
Once, she gave into the thundering rain.
Wearing nothing but the night-sky, letting all her hopes and dreams wash away.
Right down the cracks in the sidewalk, right down the gutter.
Right down into the sewer until she had nothing left but the ghost of a smile,

And memories made of glass.
All because she chose to give in to dejection.
All because she chose to give up on herself.