With just a kiss on the wrist he brings the warmth. And a medicated life in a desolate place. But is it not still a form of life? This beautiful silver sliver sings of promise. Promises of reticence and mortality. Songs of futility and a new found sorrow. It brings selfishness a whole new appellation. Always the victim. But never to blame. Reckless little girl. Can you find salvation before demise? The tracks that lace her arms form a pattern of stars. Stars she could never reach. Each one a bitter elegy that no one seems to comprehend. The rosary beads seem to be running out. A rigorous fight for freedom. A sincere prayer for her return. I pray you return.