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I'm learning to lay awake
with myself,
Peaceful and warm I
can be with me,
Caring for myself like I do my chilli plant,
Testing my own leaves for lack of nutrition,
Or love,
Cheap, clean sheets beneath my hands and calves
Light the wick.
Colin Meloy's liquid voice falls
like hail,
Excitable under my skin.
So as I watch the light move across white ceilings I can clear
and muse
and breathe.
Our veins are not filled with scripture
Our bones are not built of steel
Our brains are not hardwired to think the same
Our hearts are not the ones supplying us with love
Our muscles are not meant to withstand the weight of a thousand lies
But our souls are meant to keep us going

Whether your soul is forged from one who was old
Or from one who was but a child
A soul is a soul
It cannot be changed or rewired to please those in this
Unmanageable world
poetry lets go
what
the body
can no
longer hold.
Hi. :)
(Monsoon Moments 3)

The Chart is speaking to me
telling me......time has spilled over,
and, shaded most parts of the pie;

the space beyond the three quarters,
is what catches my eyes.........the pie,
looks like a clock, with only a quarter left,
its hands, hurriedly ticking......emphasizing
making it clearer......there is no turning back;

my to-do list alerts me
got to spend my hours...days,
all the more wiser now,
before the last piece of my pie,
before the last slice of my life,
gets consumed...........and, finally,
be...shaded....completely,
..........by.....time........


Sally

Copyright June 14, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
...oh, dear...the rains are making me ponder too much....
Remember, we are the grand-daughters of the witches they couldn't *burn.
-unknown

Hihi you! x
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