Wednesday, November 25, 2009


I am not made for sadness
Or playing my typewriter like a piano
I don’t want to lose myself in the cave of words
I want the light to shine down
I am not the girl you imagine
My heart is sore
I drown for days on the kitchen floor
One day lost in the mirror
Another caught up in the wind
Like some frail and flimsy thing
I broke before they could fix me
Fucking darkness from the soiled stem of my soul
Scratching at the margins
Colouring myself into corners
There is nothing beautiful here
You can move along
The show is done
The song is sung

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