orded a pumpkin latte at starbucks and waited for the drink
brushed her hair behind her ears, leaning back and pretending to think
"Reina? your drinks ready.." couldn't think steady, took it and headed to her chair
locked herself into the wrong life, with her thinking impaired
but everyone around her seemed unblinking while they stared
searching her soul for an answer that wasn't there
walking down the street looking for a key to her prison
Stella wandered into another bar looking for a drink to be given
for the reason she's livin', in spots she'd frequent but didn't
know the bartenders name or her place in the scene
Stella just wandered through the most complacent of dreams
patiently waiting for a white knight to placate her needs
her twighlight sihoulette playing pictionary
outlining the worlds flaws in her silent script that varied
between quiet praise and fear of violent days our minds display
opening up the firey furnace with its clamped jaws latching
onto every piece of humanity our bodies leave flapping
in the breezes and wind, seasoned by sin
signaling the undertones of the begining of this world to curle up its toes
sink back into the earth, and silence itself in the undertones of our purpose
digesting a world we all live in the meaning of service
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