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 Nov 9 ardnaxela
Níla
And I guess I need the tragedy
The sobbing noise and tipping feet
Tired eyes and restless needs
This hunger for reality
Is drowning me

And leaves me wanting more
The petal of a flower
Blew up and kissed me on the cheek.
Then on the ground it lay, wilting in the sunshine
While I am renewed , as I smile
The movement of my cheek muscles releases sparkling dust
Which falls up the petal
absorbing it
The wind then picks the dust and takes it.
The petal’s last kiss is Is now upon the wings of butterflies no longer wilting.
Three weeks tomorrow of no smokes
The nicotine habit I’ve hopefully broke.
 Jun 22 ardnaxela
putiira
Fall softly in my sky,
like the sun at dusk.
She went and wrote the rivers
Illustrated the waterfalls
And conducted the forest orchestra
She took on the role of Mother Nature while she watched the world deteriorate her role as a woman
I am a Woman. Simple but Conplex in every form.
I’ve always been a loner.
Nonconformist.
Condoner of my own space.
                         ~
Don’t pry my doors and expect my walls not to quiver
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