We were able to dance with the wind
but we were beautiful.
Once a songbird in our chest,
now the only thing visible is the cage
but we were beautiful
Dainty, pocket-sized
when we were supposed to be glorious
but we were beautiful
Aren’t these bones lovely?
They lost their power a long time ago
but we were beautiful
Yes, we were once beautiful
Lives wasted away in search of the
imposed burden, of imaginary norms
but never of meaning, never of something
larger than reflections, skin and bones.
You can get your copy of my first novel on Amazon: Little Rebellion
Poetry Books: Identity Crisis, Rehab
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