Random Autobiography

September 8, 2010
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Flipping through the pages
Of my story book
Or maybe it’s a novel
Whatever my life was written into
I know that I have yet to reach my climax
I know that I haven’t started climbing
My rising action
I am sitting at the foot of my pyramid
Staring up from my spot in the exposition
Creating flashbacks for my future
The walks down the emergency room
Twice in six months
Because of the same accident
A vicious murder
Killing a loved one
From the inside as cancer
The delivery room
Anxious for the arrival
Of my new cousin
The heat of a bomb-fire
And the smell burnt marshmallows
At the edge of my cousins yard
by the small woods
The doodles caught in the margins
Of papers and worksheets
Waves crashing down by my side
Forcing me toward shore
A new school
With so much change
The cuts and bruises
I receive do to clumsiness
And the flying I experience
Off of a rock wall
And I am waiting
And waiting-and waiting
For the universe to turn the page
And for me to start my climb

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