I walked those halls
on feet of papier-mâché,
unsure, unsteady, unknown,
folding in on myself
with every frightened step;
always running in
through the out door,
searching for the girl
erased on boards of black
by the cruelty of
made-up minds
and history 101
Hi! I often revisit themes of folding myself within. I like this one a lot.
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Thanks, Q. It’s definitely a subject I understand.
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I remember commenting on this one. Oh well….
I’ll say it again. I ADORE you.
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Read most recent entry, Love. I broke my blog last week and lost all comments. But I don’t forget your lovely thoughts.
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Keep your hands where I can see them. DOn’t touch that.
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Ha ha ha
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Such a strong visual, so creative. Excellent!
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True feelings 😊
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