Walking away is the only solution I’ve ever excelled at, and yet absence does not obliterate that which dwells within – I can pretend that
Glue, she mutters, massive locks of blonde hair, piled atop her head mysteriously held in place despite the breeziness of her top-down sports. Not even
(Poem inspired by previous post: Choosing Self Love ) A locked door a screaming sister a mother in despair a child rejected, scorned, neglected blames
Have been unearthing the boxes of my subconscious, clearing ill- cast tales, intent on an end goal – restitution at very least, but my sister,
Funny, this present impulsivity – am alone, overweight, a dreamer self-propelled, looking for a friend who doesn’t see me as last resort not exactly beside
Social invitations sing of acceptance, delightful opportunity to intermingle for the hale, the rehearsed, practiced in the choreography of wardrobe appropriateness disability cringes – NO!