If if…

If if only

I could saunter

outside of the

margins life has

sketched upon the

crinkly pages

I’ve decided

I adhere to

maybe one night

I could meet the

boy who could be

just the one to

let me be me

and insist the

demons I hold

dear to dissolve

I could fathom

years of ponder

years of distaste

years of bitter

years of wonder

years of sorrow

so it could be

more than tear-stained

more than hollow

more than saintly

more than merely

yards of untolds

and instead a

life that unfolds

straight across a

garden’s green’ry

all upon a

wintry plane all

sewn into a

tailor’s fin’ry

tousled in a

piebald mane.


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