Poison Pretty

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I’d rather not and simply be,
words tied up and placed
in a book of history.

Was nots and its nots in the present,
beautifully perfect,
and evanescent.

The pages were empty and the words never took,
So I untied them and sewed them,
into the seam of the book.

I must have been sleeping…
for when I awoke, it had the prettiest cover,
with all the words I never spoke.

They slipped away,
and stole the red
from the dawn of the day.

The pain from it’s suffering,
the love from it’s joy,
a constant rediscovering.

So here, in the present,
i’d rather not and simply be,
this book placed in history.

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4 thoughts on “Poison Pretty

  1. Rexie says:

    How’ve you been? Long time no see 😀

    Actually along with these beautiful lines, the post should have been called Pretty in Red.

    • Awe.. Thank-you, a positive thought!
      The poinsettia plant is pretty but poisonous, and books can not be judged by it’s cover, especially an unwritten one.. But in life, actions seem more important than words, and all this is, is words 🙂

      Thank-you for your visit and kind comment. I miss writing, hope to do more, and visit more 🙂
      Tara

  2. Doug S says:

    beautiful as always…sorry for my late notice.

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