she jingles when she walks,
a pocket full of unanswered questions,
like a lifetime of spare change;
collected from passing strangers,
unremarkable faces in the grocery store.

she’s keeping time with the rhythm
of the beep, beep, beep of traffic
passing on the street;
impatient, and tragically slow like
sneakers on cracked sidewalks.

how far can these paths take
a girl with a fractured story,
where does the road lead to home?
a journey along the precipice
of a story no longer known.