Friday 23 November 2012

you were a medic

Patience taught me that every second was a rabble, full of moments and anxious motives. Trap my broken words and keep them together.
String me out, string my whole rib cage out on your table, dismantle my bones one by one, carefully like a student.
Approach every feeling that I have with a keen eye. Everything you said kept me at bay. What you did was unfair, yet you thought it necessary.
You're just a repetition, a link in the chain I faced my whole life.
I wonder if we can detach and be more than the skeletons our mothers and fathers set us to be. If i wandered over, could I break through, keep a space between my ghost and your shadow?
Whatever you do, law low and keep your ears to the ground when I open up. I am coming soon.

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