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Sunday, November 06, 2011

eight, twenty two, eleven

Are there days I skipped or didn't see?
I'm missing a vital piece of me


I turned this house over & never saw
that heirloom, that color, or any dropped flaw...


Maybe it's at the top of those stairs
or hiding in with the silverware...


I know it's around, you are still in my mind.
It's a really helpful thing you showed me one time.


But, you're far away.. can't help me look now
I'm jogging my streets & talking out loud.


Retelling the same story, where are you to stop me?
What happened to the fresh ink, the endless words I copy?


My writing's plugged up & I'm yawning again...
vowels pushing around blocks, to the consonant's end.
They won't quit, they just ramble & ring in my ears.
Who knows how many wasted lines before the sentence clears...




[ I'm still here.... floating around. Don't forget me! x) 
  Be safe! xoxo, Bex]

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