We wander, aimless,
Hearts on our sleeves, shameless.
As though for auction or for sale.

We wonder, clueless,
When those we’d trusted,
Fail.

The world says,
“You're a commodity,
To be bought and sold
Is no travesty.”

So we wander, wondering.
Our wanderlust
spurred by wonderment.

The world says,
“You're a commodity,
Be proud of it.”

My heart is not for
Sale.
It is far to dear to me.

I've learned in a severed
Time,
That none will care for me.

Erase that knowledge,
She-who-was,
She-who-has-ceased-to-be.

She cared for herself,
And now, you see,
She's crossed the great divide.