To Change
Smiling by lips And mocking eyes As you ride your White horse Fingering my flaws. Your chin ever level Nose raised high And not weighted With the layers of sin Hanging from mine. I have cracked Too many eggs Waiting in practice Being silently still To never disappoint you. My eyes are heavy And the soul weary And red from scrubbing But a much as I fake I shall never be clean.
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I am a button pusher. I stir up trouble. It is what I do. I live in the borders between light and dark. I can write about beautiful things, and joy and love, but I find I am more creative when i write about the dark. I love to hold a mirror up to the...
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