Te Mando Un Beso

She connects the lines, traces them in pencil.
Still they're intertwined
jamming all the signals.

Plans out her course in spite,
packs her favorite books and tools.
Winds through the mountains until her feet are worn completely through.

Bloodied limbs walk too.

She was told a lie, mimicked by the songbirds.
Now she's trapped inside
trying to find the right words

The spark was not incendiary,
it was just benign like all the scrawl
Etched into the rocks she passes echoing the black crow's caw.

Is it worth it all?