My Cardboard Balcony

A Girl Started A Fight by Belinda Roddie A girl started a fight with headphones on, the music carrying her swings in a raw and rough choreography, the wind bristling the stalks of her straw hair. Her foe was armed and ready, driving a blade hard into her ribs, then fleeing at the scream of police sirens. The girl felt the shard of metal drain her, empty her of stream after stream of blood. Was this the way she had always known it'd end? Her drunken dad had failed at killing her, as had the harsh and bitter life she lived upon the streets. Though hoping she'd survive many more years, she died with French songs blaring in her ears.

I will retreat when I hear the drums. I will hide myself in a pile of leaves. The autumn wind will carry me away before the troops can get to me. I will climb my way up a redwood tree, and I'll be a part of the seasonal breeze. There will be rainclouds above and hellfire below, but I'll find equilibrium that the generals won't see.