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Kewayne Wadley Mar 2017
I was a shirt filed with straw and rags.
Pants that hang loose. Jeans cuffed pinned uncomfortably.
Nothing to think of; a hat filled with straw.
The inability to walk. Pinned to a board.
Hickory oak.
Chest disproportionate to a small waist.
Sleeves flung in the wind.
Left standing still; a face motionless.
Pinned to hickory oak.
A shadow left in an empty field, the boundaries of a checkerboard shirt.
The insecurity of straw hands.
Pickett fences to the feet of crows,
Still she'd visit often.
Distance cut short by dark heavy wings.
She'd caw in my silence,
Not knowing the ability to smile I stood against purpose.
She refused to run, poking fun at my hat.
The clothes that hung loosely in the wind, scurf tied tightly around my neck.
Feeling her ***** the strings of my chest.
Strands of straw filled by her need to find a home.
Was there anything there at all before that moment.
Becoming shelter to the way she pried.
Yağmur Kaya  Dec 2018
Scarecrow
Yağmur Kaya Dec 2018
Alone,
on my own
Just me
and my thoughts
Only,
this person
Its feelings
and nothing more

Thinking,
alone
Talking,
in my world
They don't,
hear me
'Cause I'm just,
on my own

Screaming,
punching the walls
No one comes
'Cause i'm at home,
with me
and myself
Doesn't ring,
even my phone

Saying,
this and that
Why are you,
so ******* bad?
I don't,
even understand,
why are you,
so ******* dead?

Open,
your ******* eyes!
There's no one,
who can realise,
that you,
******* exist!
That's why,
you want to end it,
all
So you can be,
in the dark,
alone

Just

on

your

own
https://open.spotify.com/track/6xxePsq2BKr8dtLUw4E3Er?si=IWljoUEZQ8afKA_JhePEJQ
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