Odds against her
She will cut and run
Squeezing her components
Into separate packages
One for ugly feet
One for unexplainable, unstoppable, uncontrollable tears
Which sneak up on her
One for a face which is best forgotten
And one for a body which belongs to pain, illness, and deformity
Which exhausts her
There's no room left for hope
Nor for silver hair threaded with auburn
Decapitated and dreamless she wanders
Retracing uncertain footsteps
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