The poet dies inside
Leaving the familiar
For the unknown called life
She doesn’t want to explore the world
That dream has come and gone
She wants to crawl back to the womb
Of her mother
Where it was once sanctury…
And die
She’s too middle-aged to start anew
She wants no part of bravery
And runs to the past
Where she wasn’t always safe
But dealing the unfamiliar
She rather not
And sits staring at the houses across
The street…
And weep an unbreakable heart
To stop beating
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