Tasting Yesterday's Anger
R RoseAnn V. Shawiak
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Leaves, brown, curling around my mind with their deaths' lying strewn within boundaries of lonely desires.
Wanting to be loved again, taken into hands of caring with no strings attached or held by anyone.
Sovereign ideas clasping hands with heart-felt senses infuriating the calmest parts of me.
Tasting the bitter-sweet anger of yesterday, attempting to adjust and control it's presence in my life.
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