• She rents a floor in a house
    Where nails and hammers aren’t allowed
    She closes the window and shuts the door
    She buries her sorrow beneath the ground
    (She buries them where they cannot be found)

    The hearth is clogged with ashes of woe
    The kitchen is replenished with restraint
    Her hair is long, black and greasy
    Her fingers scrape at the paint
    (She calls herself a living saint)

    She drinks and drinks what she cannot take
    What she lacks she would eat
    She ties a rope to break her fall
    The floor disappears beneath her feet
    (Living is a difficult feat!)