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When your sky
      Becomes ocean
And your chokin'
On words
Thick are emotions
And a silence is heard

     Dont drown
In the lack of sound
     Tread light
Untill words are found
   They are floating
     All around

Inhail your thoughts
      Re-right your current

   Exhail your soul
           Theres a story
                 To be told

                Flow
 May 2014 Madison Sanborn
Lindee
I want to see my muscles and bones
I want to see the tissues that make up
this fractured body
I want to write my favorite
poems on the insides of my eyelids
so I see beauty when I blink
I want to unzip my skin and shake off the dust
gathered from years of being
unused and untouched
I want to inspect myself on the inside
to see my body work together when my brain sleeps
coauthoring my breath
instructing me to keep living.
I want to see the make up of me
and try to retrace my muscle memory into something new
string my tendons into bows
wrap my veins into vines around my mothers' garden
so she sees the tattered reasons why I can't help her bloom.
I want to see if there's more to me
or less of me
most importantly I want to see if you're still carved into my stomach
knots leaving scars.
I'm curious
if my insides are more beautiful than my outside
Staring at me
Loud quiet, laughing
Pulling pushing
       Killing
Trampling down
Crying shreaks
Hopless souls
Live no more

     -Maddie

— The End —