you craft yourself
from words,
thousands of them
but
you can't find
pictures to tell
this story.
so maybe you are
the lost girl
the one that wasn't labeled
right, the one who
disappeared
like white sheets at dawn
or the girl woven
from paragraphs,
curled, frayed strings
of sentences, nothing
more, nothing less.
5 comments:
I always love the last para of your poems more than the others. Beautiful.
what a line, disappeared like white sheets at dawn. so lovely.
"nothing more, nothing less"
For some reason, this struck me.
this is lovely.
also. there is nothing at all wrong with being a lost girl.
Erin--never wrong, only misunderstood.
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in the wake of light, your words bring me more(please, do leave your fingerprints behind, so I may relish the image of our hands after you go.)