i am not myself today
i have forgotten the words to that song
feet bound into small and curious shapes, mincing cautious steps
hands tied in the gesture of social niceties
and everything tied to the hem of my dress
dragging and pulling and weighing
three years ago i went back to touch base
it was the juxtaposition of who i am and who i was
who i thought i would continue to be.
i know how i got here but i don't want to be here
An idiosyncratic and non sequitorial examination of the contents of one head.
Sunday, March 27, 2005
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