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30 December 2012 @ 12:47 pm
(rough draft, for now)  
My body is the fractured remains of a city
defined by urbicide.
Think homicide, think pesticide,
think of the skeletons of homes
destroyed in the massacre of its inhabitants.
Sharp shooters and grenades,
ashes, ashes, we all fall down.
Eventually the city sleeps,
my soul evaporates with the smoke.
But my heart,
my heart never stops racing to the
ghosts of shells raining,
infinite screams that know
no hope or help will arrive.
My shredded dress does nothing to conceal
my history, yet I refuse to take it off. Not again.
I've returned to this hellhole but forget the reason why.
Out of habit, I hide my tracks and burn the welcome mat;
this is a home to no one.
reginaclarejane on December 30th, 2012 06:04 pm (UTC)
oh, yes, i so feel this. thank you, dear erin.