Monday, December 13, 2010

until making new sense -- Poetry 2010

Floating above the surface
life was shallow;
barely connected,
drifting aimlessly,
a soul seeking sustenance
in barren times.
In trying to forget,
revised words,
the only pleasure…
reforming them,
until making new sense;
until locked in place;
until expunging infliction;
until searing the wounds from
you will always be a plain Jane,
and nothing important…

a friend said she's been trying to forget those words
[last two lines] since she was 12 years old

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