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Don’t Talk About Me.


Hide all of my curdled dossier,

Toss the empty files in a box

My nothing is better gone.

Time will pass on too

And so will what was true,

A madeleine of exquisite torture.

Only for a whisper under the floorboards,

To guess at the extinguished girl  

Unwanted by her mother earth,

A life gone before her birth.

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Categories: Art, Creative WritingTags: , , , , , , , , ,

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