Stress compounded into a thousand fiery parts
all moving like individual flames
can't just do it all once
burned over and over again
The earth revolves away
spinning my plans apart like matchsticks
can't catch them all today
regain composure at a later date.
Caught on my own tongue
like a shard of ice, melting
like my weekend, singed
to hell with no reprieve, first impressions last
By the skin of my teeth,
The knick of time,
The potential waits
in a maleable state.
-JessicaLeigh Oct. 2007
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
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