Fetal Curl

February 5, 2017

Copper hair traced carved cheeks
Thin eyes sat deep into skull
Following a crow pecking at
Maize in the yard across the street.
Her mind wandered and
Flew away, watched tomorrow
Projected in worries,
Stress lines wrinkled her forehead
Her scalp began to grey.
Blue eyes that used to twinkle sit still,
Her laugh was but a cough to break
Loose, and the days were nothing but
A spasm, split ends that reeked
For the wind- when it comes
Her worry lines deepen and release
Before callusing into her skin.
Pores awakened settle
Back, behind powdered trust and
Disrespect. The girl sleeps too often,
Nothing means anything anymore,
Tomorrow is today once again,
Repetition of one before.

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