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Moon marked and touched by sun
my magic is unwritten
but when the sea turns back
it will leave my shape behind.
I seek no favor
untouched by blood
unrelenting as the curse of love
permanent as my errors
or my pride
I do not mix
love with pity
nor hate with scorn
and if you would know me
where the restless oceans pound.

I do not dwell
within my birth nor my divinities
who am ageless and half-grown
and still seeking
my sisters
witches in Dahomey
wear me inside their coiled cloths
as our mother did
mourning.

I have been woman
for a long time
beware my smile
I am treacherous with old magic
and the noon's new fury
with all your wide futures
promised
I am
woman
and not white.
This mechanical mind is rusted.

Gears are stripped and torn.

Thoughts won't turn the way I attempt to steer them.

The synapses that will tell me to move on won't fire.

The folds of my memory are streaming ideas and desires of the moments  just before my brain shutdown.

I am lost in a void of what was.

I am reeling with a hope of what might be again.

I for one am thankful that you are still in my heart...

For you are there, ticking away like clockwork...

Keeping this machine alive.
there's that crick in my neck I used to fish in and, that inch-full can of ginger-ale I left in the cup holder,
in the center console
of the car,
these last few nights.

let's swim in that.
2 Edit
One friend is deaf but manages to hear twice as much as I do,
while simultaneously embedding himself in games and genius.
One friend is kind and smart, always complimenting and supporting others before herself.
One friend is quiet, and she is both easily embarrassed
and easily embarrassing.
One friend is the previous friend's brother,
and crushes on me while never saying enough.
One friend is very intelligent and geeky,
and detests wearing skirts even more than I.
One friend is really in your face and dramatic,
pushing the boundaries on everything, but noone hates him.
One friend is the unfortunate brother of a great annoyance, but is her polar opposite.
One friend has hair of constantly changing color;
blue, green, pink, black, yellow, brown,
but always the same hoodie no matter her hair choice.
One friend has a thousand faux laughs,
but guards his true one from the light.
One friend has a mocking joke for everything,
and you can't help but laugh with her.
One friend has a treasured hat and while sketching everyone, everything, and everywhere, lays my insecurities to rest as I do the same for him, both of us in need of some love
and understanding from a kindred spirit.
One friend has an obsession with a band and a book and a show, and an overbubbling enthusiasm for everything in her life.
One friend has a meme for everything,
and a perverse thought for every situation he encounters.
One friend is half blind but she manages to see twice
as much as me and explains everything beautifully.
One friend is crazy and gets away with the exclamation of abraham lincoln in any awkward silence because its just his nature.
One friend is as a mouse, but a genius in every aspect
and hides behind her glasses.
One friend is obnoxiously loud and more of a dork than the gangster his hoodie implies so everyone simply laughs.
One friend smiles like a duck in the cutest way,
and wears her square glasses in the best way.
One friend longs for a love that is loyal
and hide s behind his temperment
So... this isn't *quite* as silly as I initially intended... I am posting this before it's completely finished though, so there will be more added later.
When I was young and bold and strong,
Oh, right was right, and wrong was wrong!
My plume on high, my flag unfurled,
I rode away to right the world.
"Come out, you dogs, and fight!" said I,
And wept there was but once to die.

But I am old; and good and bad
Are woven in a crazy plaid.
I sit and say, "The world is so;
And he is wise who lets it go.
A battle lost, a battle won--
The difference is small, my son."

Inertia rides and riddles me;
The which is called Philosophy.
Sound is everywhere
Except in my ears
Faces pass me by
But there's nothing to hear
Children laugh
and babies cry
All I can do,
is envy them and sigh.
"It's lonely,"
my fingers tell them
desperately dancing for attention
hoping the onlookers will understand
the words I try to tell them
All I can think
is it really isn't fair
I am labeled as
An Outcast
people could less then care
though they try to be nice
It's like playing a board game
Without any dice
Still, I continue on
living in a shiny glass case
While the others stare at me and gawk
As if there's a mute alien in my place
It's so very lonely
the life that I live
It's amazing anyone can stand it
I hope I'll be one of the the ones
Who did.
Purple Book

— The End —