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The Beast and the Beauty

Scars cut their jagged path

like avenues across the soul

telling stories grown to cities

reduced to gaping holes.

I tell my reflection

that she was once beautiful

because of any of us

she needs to hear it most.

I draw life-lines on my palms

an echoing lie, whispering

"Of course, you'll live forever!"

without having to pay a price for youth.

I scribble words of wisdom

that no one will ever read

they're written in a language

that the schools refuse to teach.

Each syllable, each song

unlike reflections of Narcissus

leave a new ****** trail

a **** in the heart

a frail little *****

beating with valiant strides

shouting with each agonized step

I shall not go quietly

I shall not surrender

I shall not quit or fall to self-pity

for I am the *****

that powers this beast

a creature grotesque and lovely

a monster too gentle to be at peace

an oracle, a love-sick fool,

with a soul-carved map

drawn over the surface of the world.

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a
Written by
anna-jordan
American
Published
Mar 19, 2010
Lines·Words
33·170
Permission

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