they walk across the streets
carrying their empty paper-like selfs,
their puppet strings controlled by the
universe,
naive pure humankind,
too innocent to realize
the lives that they've taken,
too chaotic to focus on the dilapidated city
they are standing on
the dust that they leave behind,
stranded on the sidewalk
to be forgotten,
to disappear among the stars that eventually
rust out,
withered away
their damaged past,
memories of casualties etched in gravestones,
wounded fingers try to stitch them back
together,
their past getting caught in between the silver
threads,
illuminated by the moonlight that floats
like pieces of stardust
