Wedged Morning – Twisted Prose

I called a moment,

a fragrance simmers in the light,

want waited without intent,

there comes a safe way,

we are trying to be more,

we recant and restrict,

vocal cries geared inside a driving force,

leather and lace,

weathered eyes,

pretty pulses slowing down,

wasted,

renewed,

I said words without hope,

I tried for my forgiveness,

I cried for me,

I wanted,

but it did not see the light,

I lost myself in the mirror image,

trying to reflect who I saw inside,

while who I was died on the outer,

who was I?

who am I?

who will I become?

who will I be?

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