BirthdayA Poem by Lissy
Cross-eyed, the space between my boredom closes
pinned to what I do not do, an ancient tradition of mindlessness- Deja-vu a custom of pressing a moment like a holiday. This day had been charred into my eyes with burning candles, carved into my headstone all the while, digging my grave. © 2011 Lissy |
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Added on October 22, 2011 Last Updated on October 22, 2011 Author
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