She used the blank pages
of her journal as a dustcloth,
collecting the cerebral lint
torturing her thoughts and soul.
A funeral pyre of pages
exorcised the demons forever.
Gone, never to be remembered
except that they once existed.
Now she can fly.
of her journal as a dustcloth,
collecting the cerebral lint
torturing her thoughts and soul.
A funeral pyre of pages
exorcised the demons forever.
Gone, never to be remembered
except that they once existed.
Now she can fly.
4 comments:
You are so freaking talented that sometimes I can't really stand it.
Just saying.
I love being your friend.
(:
Ooh, I love the first stanza.
(That is a stanza, isn't it?)
Just fell on your blog--did you actually make this picture? Fantastic!! Really fantastic work.
Thanks for sharing it. Freakin' talented, indeed.
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