seethingblue's Diaryland Diary

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the last entry of the hour

the last entry of the hour exhumed from me like a bad spirit,

let loose across your back porch thoughts--the ones that only hurt but do not kill,

the ones that struggle but do not fight.

the ones you strapped across your shoulder and carried from childhood to adolescence and then waved to from the bus,

there are no good chinese restaurants, i tell you,

there are no good places to get fortune cookies,

there is nothing linear about the way i speak and think because i was born as a perfect circle,

a circle with two mix-matched halves.

i give you this last entry to let you replace lines with lines,

this last entry of the hour that frightens me, every hour mounting until my death or being stripped away until my birth

14:53 - 23 October, 2003

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