Thursday, August 11, 2011


I sat there while I watched the pieces
Of her soul
Like ash falling after the incineration
Of her life
I watched as she slowly gathered
Each shattered memory
Tears strolling down her face
As she made her way down
Darkened alley alone
Dying inside
As the pieces collapsed
Inside her delicate fingers
She fell to the ground
Right in the middle of the street
Her grief couldn't carry her anymore
I wonder if it ever could
Why did her mother die
Leaving her with scrapbooks of shards of glass
She used to sit there with ritual songbook
Singing hymns into the night
As crimson soaked through her pants legs
She stopped
I smiled at her broken
Crawled inside her chrysalis
Till I was home
Inside her pain
Waiting to be free again
Yet someone clipped my wings
Before I could fly
So I learned to run
Someone shut me up
So I just learned to speak louder
Scream louder
Channel death into that rage
Speak for ghost and people with no souls
Who remind me how to sing the blues
While we all our paving our own way to hell
Sometimes we lose faith
We sit at 3 pm
Standing in the middle of don't look back
It will get better
And motivational speeches and realize
We are all standing on a pile of lies
Unmoved and unshaken
We learn to survive in grief and darkness
We learn to pen pain at 3 am
While penning that final letter
With our other hand
They say don't give up
Some people already have .......

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