Sailor

Filled with hate
She can't escape

Cringing with every breath life takes.

Buried and searching
For purpose and point.

I'd rather sit and gaze at stars and moonlight.
Fly me out silently.
My mind is already tortured.
Gently.

Come down and sift me to the space where I'm a piece.
In a puzzle, no longer missing, ridding of poisonous disease.

In a break no longer coming, the wind will bend trees.
And twist there roots from they're belonging.
No more crying on scraped, red knees.