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Written by Jamie Lynn Hart
Brittle Nails look up at me with dirt stains and scratches. I open up my purse to find the answers and matches. As I struggle with the ziplocked trees, will it console will it appease whats going on? Will it conceal will it relieve what we feel, what we believe, do we belong?
Remnance of trips we took run rampant in my head. I took all the photographs with m mind instead. Images are picturesque and possibly the best I’ve ever seen. As I struggle with the magnitude , I succumb and then conclude, that this is all we need. As I fall to my knees.
But was it ever really me, was it ever really me looking up at that sky? Was it ever really me looking up?
Cosmically I’m given all the answers and insight. I gather them until the dusk turns into the daylight. But as the sun brings in the day, all my power is stripped away and I am lost. But if I had the chance to stay, I’d take it and embrace the rays so I am found again.
but was it ever really me, was it ever really me looking up at that sky? Was it ever really me looking up?
Would you like to see the stars with me? Would you like to see the stars with me?