Jessibelle Atlas

day one, she lies alone somewhere unknown
packed in her bag all but a thorough plan
lost shadow in the roads away from home
care not for falling tears and shaking hands

collapsing minaret built on brick lies
retired prayer palms to brace the crash
lackluster heart to match red swollen eyes
and fantasize her skin burned into ash

day two, the torment pulls her flesh deformed
bomb in a bottle ready to explode
constant downpour stirred up a bigger storm
a bag of bones without a transfer code

her threshold broke a fearsome time ago
the only out is to forget to breathe
or take a leap without checking below
avoidance is her field of expertise

day three, a wonder if she’ll make it there
a parking ticket with a pregnant fine
she dares ignite the gasoline affair
hopes lady luck ain’t on her side tonight

chamber of words echoes inside herself
always chin up, you’re right, they left, feel down
quick slingshot circle back to dwindling health
she judges life ain’t worth sticking around