Gashes For The Grey

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Nostalgia for the soul.

Submitted: November 14, 2015

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Submitted: November 14, 2015

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When I was a little child-
a small, malleable thing,
I would run until I outran the sunset,

with sleeves rolled up,
and laces untied. 
Grass-stains on every summer dress,
and hands soiled in dirt.

My new white shoes wouldn't last a morning,
and would be tied to overhead wires.

Fists would fly on the school grounds,
with blood down my pretty white shirt,
grazed knees,
dripping onto frilled socks.


Spitting over high balconies,
and picking wild-flowers with thorns.
Chapped lips against September breath,
and frosted December tongues.

Daisy-chain memories through summer days alone,
climbing rocks,
exploring river-bends and treetops.

Just a small, malleable thing,
thinking I was tall,
and unbreakable.


© Copyright 2020 AlanaLouiseMcDermott. All rights reserved.

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