Sunday, 1 September 2013

I have been collecting flowers as mementos, pressed and strung on my wall

What is your favorite bird?

My tears were laughter and my thoughts were mine for keeping. Pulling and pushing back and forth. He is what I am and we are not where we meet. I asked him what his favorite bird was and it flew faster than I knew how to, fighting flight I said no, I will stay. For now there is vortex in the hole that I had created that digs at static pride and control.  We may end up in same shore someday, one day.  For it is better to be the only girl … the only potential.

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