Eliana.

Sun, 12/30/2018 - 21:07 -- Necrosa

I don’t think I ever told anyone;

Muses are best left hidden.

But I keep it still, close to my chest,

Like armor.

 

The way you would smile

Lit by a thousand suns

 

The way your hair

Like bird wings

Flitted across your brow and tangled

 

The rings

From aunts and uncles

Stacked on nimble-thin fingers

 

The earrings (two each)

That you always kept

Polished as a badge of honor

The way your hands

Like your mother’s

Caught your sisters and guided them

 

And it broke my heart

The way you said you wanted to stay.

The way you willingly submitted to what they wanted.

Good, and true, and honest—

Things that I never was.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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