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Apr 2015
See me, how I rain through the ceiling
believing what part of me you failed to reach.
Tell me, how you tried to tree speak
but forests reek of my death unwinding in your ears.
Follow me, into your dusty attic
to tell the bats and make our story last forever.
Now sleep, my fragile murderess
sewing my soul into the seams of your pillow.
Day 19 of NaPoWriMo.
Brittle Bird
Written by
Brittle Bird  Seattle
(Seattle)   
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