Anarchy.

Blushing sunset as far as the eye can see, one girl bathed in sepia emotions.

"One step at a time", she mouths to herself, as the wind pulls at her words.

A white dress. Short, chopped off midnight hair-the extension of herself. She felt nothing as it fell to the ground. And so, she begins to stride forward in a hushed sway, like a swimmer with only the sun as a harbor. Neither cold nor warm, only purgatory's current.

Everything she put on a pedestal crashed over time, the same sands of which now blow past her autumn eyes. Hands appear wrapped around hers. Thousands pushing her onward towards her absent destination.

Stop me, stop him.

I don't know where i'm going. I don't know where I am. I don't know where I should be, because I don't know who I am. I have been given outsized shoes and forced to walk. I have been forbidden to color or talk.

Could I just lie down with you here?

I could study your lines, and they'd never smear.

We could hush this lawless wind

and exterminate what has been.