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Sabrina Lark Apr 26
This morning You

were thought number two

I opened my view
along with that picture of you

I'm weary, so I'm glad my thoughts are few

...but they're
complicated


An open door
asks if I'm thinking

I don't want to admit it; I

...want to
stop


So I close the door

On those beautiful chapters two
in hopes of gaining you

I realize now it was a grand hope too. Too
Much
to pray for.
Copyright © 2019 | Sabrina Lark

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact the author.

//The majority of my works combine memories and feelings from personal experiences with a particular color or palette, generating an equally immersive art that is both nostalgic and visual.//
  Apr 25 Sabrina Lark
Tara
If I added up all my scars,
across my arms and over my hips,
I could stitch them up,
into untold stories and engrave them on my skin,
so everyone could see,
the vulnerability within.

If I spread my wounds across a canvas,
purple, blue, red, and other hues,
creeping on rippled fabric like stars in the night sky,
I’d create galaxies,
with craters, suns and moons,
constellations of healing wounds.
Sabrina Lark Apr 24
The whites and lace in that spring place
What once was done, desired to face
Milky innocence once bathed my lips
Now drowned in whiskey and water I sipped

Tie and tights tied
up in sighs and lies
Bred of wine and born of crime
All this' been done that's happened before
Again a mask of silence I swore

A shallow hole I want to cover
Instead I swallow and squander
I lie awake and wait
in sweat and regret I try to dry
in the sheets and heat, O to be clean
and free from friends and means

Scars built from secrets spilt
Shame wrapped in gauze and bandages fold
For this that's mine to bear:
What is done cannot be untold
Copyright © 2019 | Sabrina Lark

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact the author.

//The majority of my works combine memories and feelings from personal experiences with a particular color or palette, generating an equally immersive art that is both nostalgic and visual.//

— The End —