She hangs her failures
on heartstrings as on a Christmas tree,
highlights mistakes
with spotlights
calculates regret and
marks it with mile markers as she speeds down the highway.
She hides heartbreak
like her body's a scavenger hunt
admits nothing in words,
but wears her heart inside out so it beats her skin
and blood flows by
accident, or miracle, or pull of the moon, she
sweats worry from her
pores,
squints her eyes and
blinks
beautifully because
failures look like
aspirations when upside down,
illuminated by a string
of lights,
and there's a spark in
her eyes that twinkles
still.
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