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There's a sad little girl
trapped in my body,
curled up,
dead still.

She-s full of anguish,
full of fight,
hazy from light,
yet a banshee.

Eleventy-five mini pairs
of Irish mini shoes,
for her Barbie's
and dirty dirty stockings she wears,
with pink mittens and dark sunshades
just to own them.

There are few happy days,
with blue skinny skies
and maxi maxi kites
floating above the bays.

There's a sad little girl
insecure and fearless,
hardly shown, yet regardless
I know,
she knows,
it exists
yet we choose to dose
on highly premeditated absence
of a bravery,
now aged, once young
once tall, now gone.

Little girl, you know,
I know you know
we're strong and brave
and brave and strong.
Stop this right now,
face it,
get up, go home.
Surely you knew,
some day
I'd say this.

She stood and left
And said not a word

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need balance

there's some beauty in darkness:
something interesting about
the way the air would heavily light
an irony of perfect juxtaposition. there's some beauty in ugly:
something intriguing about the
huge grotesque scars that
seem to never want to go away. there's some beauty in evil:
un peu de la purité in
the heart of a condemned man,
an innocence buried beneath a blanket of
bottled up emotions. these little beauties we
choose to neglect
aren't they the very things that
make living bearable? who would be good without the existence
of evil?
who would be beautiful without ugliness?
or what story could ever be told without scars? need beauty and ugliness,
need scars and healing oils,
need good and evil,
need all the balance to remain
steady and sane in this
crazy crazy world. need balance:
then imbalance to
balance the human equation
now and again.