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Song of Myself - 2.10.08Song of Myself (2.10.08)
by Kristina Mosquito
Here I am, vulnerable and exposed, lying in my figurative hospital bed, again.
The sheer white of everything in sight is glaring and mean, perhaps even scowling.
I've long since quelled my fear of not being able to feel anything at all.
Memories flood into my mind, much like tears have flowed into my eyes.
I've known heartbreak after heartbreak from family, friends, strangers, and lovers.
Grasp my hand tighter! Reminiscence has never been so bittersweet.
I used to be the earth beneath your feet; the soil you trampled on without hesitation.
My lips were sewn shut with crude little stitches, in a row of five lonely X's.
I am no longer the tool you carelessly used, and cast away at the first sign of rebellion.
I've since then been a warrior before a woman, or maybe a woman before a warrior,
as if there were ever really a difference between the two throughout all of history.
I ride into battle, valiant, and stain my blade with your blood before
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