this beaten down shell of a woman
the one with the grandest dreams
grew tired of seeing her shadow at the bottom
and
let the violins lead her out of the water
to take a walk under the August sun
unafraid to
journey for days on end without sleep
burdened with thirst but not take a drink
until that duty called her back in
to cut her feet on those flawed, broken shells
back in to swim with the eels
back to the that beaten down shell of a woman
like me
Thank you!
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Sheila this is beautiful. I am so sorry for your pain.
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