November 10, 2018

The seesaw from hell is for no child. 


Built on a bed of oxymorons, swaying from side to side. 

Knowing that real pain stems only after exposure to hope. 

The bright light still blinding your eyes as you get pulled down into the pits. 


It's time to make a decision.

It's time to jump off.



The seesaw from hell is for no child.

I thought I was a woman.


I can still hear his rusted hinges laughing. 

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