To belong to someone (a poem)


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Her footsteps are heavy, imprinted on
Sans; perhaps, she wore a cloak
of secrets; perhaps, she stared
at the burning
concrete for too long.
Wasting away until she, black under her
nails, stopped bothering; maybe it
was instinct, or maybe the
ancient need to
be heard somewhere.
But the collar, like a camping song around
fire, encased her neck; perhaps she
was a little desperate; perhaps it was
fear of actual contentment
that comfort
washed over her despite.
Her breath smells like soap, boxed until
needed; maybe that was the
system of change; maybe time hits
like motorcycle-wind
and the thrill of adventure.
Gazing at the blankness of tonight, she
sleeps; perhaps the signals meant
no harm in trying; perhaps
she knew
how to walk now.

2 thoughts on “To belong to someone (a poem)

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