molly thrasher (apathy_erases) wrote in girlpoets,
molly thrasher


Slipping. Fading.
Drifting away,
with seldom faking,
and showing the praise.

I go into defense mode
and always wonder why;
this motion's going
up and modes are going
to start flying by.

The little rips that
go the hardest
always make my day,
and it seems the larger
ones that make my spasms
occur are always on
their way.

Making it seem like my
glass stand is full
and basic of natures,
I go about this daily
retreat of only the simplest

How am I making it by?
This time of the night
is when all the arousals
of the day come to light.
My inner sight is developed
into a new thing that shows
me beauty in all sorts of sights.

Oh, perhaps this epic
of woe and sorrow comes to me
so naturally,
but I feel the relief
of the wind when it comes up
so effervescent before me.

I just pull the windows up to
feel this cool night air, and
I'm curious as to what you're
thinking when you feel the
exact same lit up on your face.

And I think change comes, and
change only comes when it's curious.
Change comes, and it only comes
when we're worrisome, so pack up
your things because the cold wind
brings the itch to up and leave.
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