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No longer the Oracle,
Unworshipped now,
I long for the thunder of four feet
An offering; scalped dolly, smashed toy,
SHE did, SHE took, SHE broke
Pudgy legs akimbo, bursting righteous rage
Turns to salty sobs and snot,
Defensive, downcast eyes
Flick up to meet my own.

But you have grown.
Shouting now abruptly quelled,
Transgression negated, a different fear,
but did SHE hear?
Tears transformed to giggles,
The idol is abandoned, rots in reminiscence.
Solace in each other,
The thrill of sister-secrets
And the joy of learning
*not to tell.
A poem about the dynamics of the relationships between mother, daughter, and sisters.
My mind is a                ghost house,
Haunted by souls still trying t
   still here
o be found.
Some live
  still
Others,
       mere vapours
still here
Exhale, then die, and resurrect in technicolour,
Only to expire

again

Like candles in an unexpected breeze.
The windows were left open

In the dark, the spectres
still.
I ask my lover to come take my heart
my thoughts my desires
let me be dissolved in love
never to be aware of myself again
I collect my share of the Harvest
some of it comes in boxes from the shop
some comes in long moments of peace
while others I should not have sown
and I suffer their consequences always
The nouns of my life are fading.
I'm left standing at an
uncomfortable cliff.
And the winds of
change keep
whispering,
"Do you
fade or
fly?"
The original works and writings of Jason Deegan.
All Rights Reserved. ©2015
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