true story

"She looks at you empty
Talks at you blind
about the evil lilies in the world
on which no one warns anyone or
of the sun eating her legs every day

Watch out, for as tears flood over her pretty face
while her hands painfully draw in the air,
the wide stories of the village's mad tramp
roll all over your body
as soon as she sets sight on you for a glance
break every bone in it and
free all of your blood as if you had been dug from arab soil

Sudden fountains as yourself
open in every street corner where
she stops running for a breath and
people have started mistaking her for an unleashed chupacabra
as this is the amount of sympathy most humans show for pain
but you, of all should know that
it's just her siren like scent of freeze"

This is a letter she wrote when she last woke, two centuries ago
...now change your dirty torn clothes,
stop your rumbling about lilies,
know the sun has no teeth and
run, run for your life!Run, I tell you, for she's fast!