i stare at all the bricks they form a wall
it feels as if i have been working on it my whole
life. I am scared sometimes that it will never end.
and scared it will come to an end...no not really.
i take the needle that is the present put the thread that is
the future and i mend the tears from the past.
my heart only knew bursting with joy, never have i known this splitting
of the seems. never would i want to again.
i am scared today, a little for the wall cast a familiar shadow
yet i hear others talk about the sun. i start again brick soaked
with the moisture of my hand. which is the wall and which is the pile...
The Fox
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Dear Poet,
Today, you woke with plan you were going to befriend a fox. I listened as
you spoke about how you would follow it's track trough the forest a...
2 comments:
You are talking about something that is very complex but I understand what you are saying because you are a good writer. "Which is the wall and which is the pile"....true confusion, summed up perfectly.
nadia you need to write a book.
the hurt and the need to move beyond it is raw and real in your words.
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