She's driving and singing,
Or talking to herself.
The window is up
So I can't tell.
She's older, but checking herself in the mirror,
Hoping to meet someone else.

A long scar runs
From her wrist to her elbow
And belies the miracle
Of her survival
And her current hope.

But sing, Milady,
(Or speak to yourself),
Meet your lover,
If you must,
Whatever you need to do,
Whatever you want
To get you along,
To help you process
You're current worth,
And your divinity within.

-jenn