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Dec 2018
Wrapped in a pink cotton blanket,
Warmed and fed, alive
A storm rises in my mind,
a scene of deep forest, a child.

Hidden amongst shoes,
Marbles and a flashlight,
Dancing in space and in orbit,
A lone soul in its element.

Blank face and sullen eyes,  
A sponge to emotion and to fear
Every week another era,
Tempestuous ebb and flow, tears.

She rides her bike, dreaming away
Another rat in a rusty wheel
Looking for solace, peace and purpose,
Something solid and something real.

Undulating waves and frantic logic
Depths of darkness and wells of joy
Inability to fit the mold,
Painful transparency and unsatisfying toys.

Now she's melting into the song of the violin
The tiptoe of piano
The urgency of symphony
The strength of the drum solo.

The feminine, the masculine
The old and young, near and far
She is all in all,  
A cascading waterfall
A torrent
A body no more.
The yelling, the words, the fighting...they all become white noise as she lunges into the safety and sweetness of her imagination
Spicy Digits
Written by
Spicy Digits  35/F/Australia
(35/F/Australia)   
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