6/28/2020 1 Comment Who Cries for the Past?//Show me this blanket, you’ve woven so gently
Call to me sweetly and butcher my name. I still embody the shell of a woman Why is it I, who should shoulder the blame? Run from these feelings Depart from the insides Hatchet away at the roots of the thing. I’ll not look backwards and remember you fondly No talent for making the old demons sing. Hungry but loveless Terrify me slowly Hold me, and shelter me against my own will. I’ll be the fawn, your charge in protection Quiet the nausea, just lie and be still. In candles she’s seeking some kind of forgiveness For actions brought hastily against her own kin. But I know of things a much darker blue pallor Condemned to remember a life full of sin.//
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AuthorAvery Atlas is the author of all posted pieces. Archives
January 2021
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