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Her poems
are dark
bitter and twisted
laced with unrequited desire
each one tainted
with ash of a past
a past thought
a past glance
a passed moment

She sings of forgiveness
in faded pencil I watch her progression
as she gives up god
turning her energies to the universe
hoping the answers will come
in the meantime
making it up as she goes along

She is my past
the past remains

Her writings are not my writings
and yet
they are

I know those thoughts, those feelings
chasing boys in search of a good man
taking chances, stealing glances
playing with fire and enjoying the burn

She destroyed so much
and yet
from the ash
she rose

and here I stand.

SincerelyLori.com. All Rights Reserved. Follow me on Facebook and Twitter.