Wednesday, September 2, 2009

(this was me)

I am
misanthropic, catastrophic,
formulaic woman
gigantic in spirited form,
the soles are worn,
I've walked many roads
kissed many toads
a frog or two,

I'm the things that never existed,
your version of me twisted.
I stand beyond the cliche -
I stand a little taller
every day.

A brief break in the monotony
I try to be
What I will be -
Its never easy
to balance on the tops of your feet,
your labels sticking on so well,
as if glued,
slapped on so crude.

I never knew
(you never knew)
(that this was me)
that this was you.

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