To Whom I Belong:

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In this place where my choices are alone but my own nonetheless.

In a place where sorry can’t cut through hurt.

Lonely are the roads to forgiveness.

Lonely paper smiles.

While they choke on safety. Too hard to smooth down. A fraying side too weak to hold us together now. Too careful to let the waters part. And so we pray for a warm rising of the broken sun.

A warmth so strong it forgives our private hurts. Just one single blade of rays would reach through my forest of loneliness and see that I belong…

In this place.       

Poetrykrissymosley©2017

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