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prayerful of dreams - 2008-06-28
preschool princess - 2008-06-16
life with my sweetheart - 2008-04-29
the fast approach of four - 2008-04-12
lighting up my own life - 2008-03-08
2003-03-16 - 12:00 p.m.
she sits alone, the curtains of night have long closed upon her day. Birdseed clings to the bottom of her feet, shuffling through the rountine of a life on constant repeat. Wake up, feign an existence, burn the wheat toast, grind the coffee beans, choke down C.N.N.'s endless regurgitation of the day's tragic events, whilst scrubbing stubborn stains from the counter. Salmonella is never pretty, pretty is never close to the way you would ever describe her, anymore. Circles of grey ashed away the bloom of youth long ago, the lines upon her face run deep, a topography of a life lived past expiration, her soul hangs low. Life in reverse. She licks a withered finger and smooths back her eyebrows in time to ice the pink lemonade in case someone- anyone drops by . But noone ever will, will they?
and so, she sits quietly. in the empty garden. long after sunset. listening to the sound of ice melting, wondering what the moon is thinking.
old starlight - new starbright
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