My unconcious kisses
The ice cold snow on these windy slopes
I wish not to stutter
When I say to you
That I melt in your hands like butter
But this falsetto is untrue
So I dwell in my dream
On the top of this lonely mountain
If only with all my fears and dissapointments I could come clean,
Then they would spill out of me to you like water from a fountain.
The winds come at a quickening pace.
The harsh cold comes with furious fists
Pounding angrily at my face.
"It is time," Says she, this goddess of the wind.
TIme to make my choice, I believed.
For when the time comes to lose him,
I will never have been so relieved.
So much pressure, so much pain.
So unwanted by me, I cannot explain.
I compose myself with one pledge:
As I throw myself off of this sorrowful ledge.
email: elizabeth17anne@Hotmail.com
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