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Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Chalking in the Broken Ceramic Shrapnel

I take my wrists and I leave them
down by waters edge.
The swan of sword fights and spears
ties them round her feathered wings,
carries them off in gradients of shadows.
Beneath all that color of which my
eyes can see, I hear a witch tiptoeing.
Without my hands
I feel no reason
to render myself of any worth.
I am not proud of laughing
out loud. I am not capable
of brightening anyones day.
I am all that I have got
in such remarkable days
spent on whims of
time erasing sun rays.
Double thoughts triple
stackable contradictions follow,
more dreams create explosions
and I have no hands to explore
them with.
I deserve just as much as any
other lolligagged, smitten,
heavily influence girl of
life by failure!
In nature I die,
in cardio at rest,
sedentary life is all to end.
Come the days of swooping
robins to rob the sweat
I have worked up to get.
I received silence from friends
and ignorance from strangers.
Is there more to my life then
erasure? A blank page
ensures a new start
don't be tempted to blame
events of which you have
no control over.

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