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room spins but i do not feel dizzy i am used to the spinning dancingon air i do not care i am painter yet prefer bare walls i am writer yetfavor blank page i practice yoga daily yet suffer angst a romantic withno one to love no one loves me we unheard voices sing to imaginaryaudiences world not yet born anyone who knows me knows i’m wildconflicted vulnerable mistake-prone trapped in lost boy skittish atsight of blood frightened by shadows scenes on tv movies terrified byviolent humankind why do people trust treasure animals? because animalsdon’t lie cheat steal talk ****** gossip why am i always beingmisconstrued misunderstood? why do women get so ******* at me theyyell slap slam door? why do i just want to not remember get numb die?what do birds see horses know dogs sense dolphins dream butterfliesremember soldiers want to forget? room spins but i do not feel dizzy iam used to the spinning
Kayla Latham Dec 2014
If we are fortunate,we are given a warning.If not,there is only the sudden horror,the wrench of being torn apart;of being remindedthat nothing is permanent,not even the ones we love,the ones our lives revolve around.Life is a fragile affair.We are all dancingon the edge of a precipice,a dizzying cliff so highwe can't see the bottom.One by one,we lose those we love mostinto the dark ravine.So we must cherish themwithout reservation.Now.Today.This minute.We will lose themor they will lose ussomeday.This is certain.There is no time for bickering.And their losswill leave a great pit in our hearts;a pit we struggle to avoidduring the dayand fall into at night.Some,unable to accept this loss,unable to determinethe worth of life without them,jump into that black pitspiritually or physically,hoping to find them there.And some survivethe shock,the denial,the horror,the bargaining,the barren, empty aching,the unanswered prayers,the sleepless nightswhen their breath is crushedunder the weight of silenceand all that it means.Somehow, some survive all that and,like a flower opening after a storm,they slowly begin to rememberthe one they lostin a different way...The laughter,the irrepressible spirit,the generous heart,the way their smile made them feel,the encouragement they gaveeven as their own dreams were dying.And in time, they fill the pitwith other memoriesthe only memories that really matter.We will still cry.We will always cry.But with loving reflectionmore than hopeless longing.And that is how we survive.That is how the story should end.That is how they would want it to be.

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