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Jun 2010
When addressing the bones that hold me up
I notice they still stand strong,
Even when
                       my weak morals seem
to only crash down...
             Down towards an underground
life.

Thoughts subdued in poison;
A disappearing mystery.
No control of emotion,
The definition of perplexity.

         The enigma of the mind
         That withers in the winds of time.

Still I search for that unknown
          which hides itself from me;
Slipping past the shadows,
Of the ghosts that I once knew.
            Even I have become a memory--
Rushing towards a synthetic manifestation.

A truth discreetly concealed,
Scars proclaiming sincerity,
The moment of self-affliction
Where I finally choose
               To change my character and direction.
Kirsten Autra
Written by
Kirsten Autra
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