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There she goes,
dressed in yellow
wearing a gaudy red cap.
Standing tall,
standing proud,
high on her shiny black heels.
She steps onto that lacquered white floor
As the girls around her
stifle with silent envy.
She leaves her elegant trail
everywhere she goes
when

Whoops!

She broke her little heel.
(Written in 4th Grade)
This is the curse,
Upon you I bestowe
May your heart be broken,
Never again glow
May you reap every heartbreaking
Seed you've sewn
May you have returned,
All the love you've never shown
May you be used,
And then thrown away
May your heart never again,
See the light of day
May you cry oceans,
Of salty tears
May love never again find you,
The rest of your years
May even your children,
Leave you behind
May the angels in heaven,
To your cries be blind
May you be ugly outside,
As you are within
May all who behold you,
Know of your sin
And at the end of your days,
May you wither and die
And may not a single tear,
Fall from nary an eye
May your blackened soul,
Forever dwell
In the deepest pit,
Of eternal hell
 Mar 2016 Echoes Of A Mind
katie
Ahead of
     this present
moment is a
void, no
        name, no
detail
beyond what
our
imaginations
    can impose, its
    bedrock not
made
of stone but
       sand, if it
were a
wood we would
           warn
children to
   avoid it, yet we
follow its fire, it's
        flames reaching
higher
     & higher,
        seducing us with
their power,
       all the things
that might be,
         glittering
then
  disappearing
 Mar 2016 Echoes Of A Mind
katie
they    were      not      
     someone      you  
could        lust    over,  
they    were     fey,      
blood       not    running
   the     usual     way,  
they     made     me      
   dream    of    streams  
touched    by  moon
beams,    ice     cold    
  fields  at       dawn,      
every     season    I      
have    ever      known
breathing      within
    their     bones;    
dark      woods      were  
organs   once     stood;    
    each      touch    a    
   crunch      underfoot      
revealing   another        
layer  so       deep,      you    
doubt   you     will 
   ever      reach     the    
heart       of      its    beat.
 Mar 2016 Echoes Of A Mind
Polar
I come from where the flowers don't grow

As dark a place as that.

I come from where the flowers don't grow

A place streaming with black rats,

Herded together they roar in flow

Of teeth and fleas

So all who sees

Will scatter.

No matter.

I come from where the flowers don't grow

I gain my sight

When the moon doth glow.
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