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May 2014
There's room for your every
Blade between my ribs.
I have a thousand other
Cheeks to turn when

You need to fling
Frustration from the channels
Of your heart's palms.
I can take all your punches.

I am a statue to your weathers.
I am the sound of handfulls of
Dirt and pebbles against an empty
Casket. I can take out my every

Nerve, my heart, my pain centre
And place it in a pocket; take it
All back out when you need to
Dillute your tears with mine

Over some matter that weighs
Heavy on the hearts of little
Girls playing with big boys; falling
From swings designed for

Denser bones and hands rough
From climbing. I am the teddy
Bear missing an eye and a limb,
Exposing stuffing through seams

Torn from being dragged over
Stairs and through sandboxes,
Always a thump behind little legs
That carry love for it, unequal to

Any.
SG Holter
Written by
SG Holter  Fenstad, Norway.
(Fenstad, Norway.)   
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