Day Seven


Self mutilation becomes a habit, one she just can’t break.

but the scrawling on her own personal canvas are dismissed as second-rate.

Running away seems simple, quick and elegantly sure

but awaking in the same old place shows leaving isn’t the cure.

Proper drugs leave her dreary, stuffed with cotton wool

but the ones that wipe away the dark exert a deadly pull.

We are legion. The broken and the sad.

On the search for something to wipe away our pasts.

Lean closer traveller for I did find a path.


Fairy stories saved my life.





2 responses to “Day Seven

  1. karen goodell

    Miss Laura, I have missed YOU…I love reading your posts from our little corner of the USA, I have enjoyed your family stories and pictures…Thank YOU for posting again….I hope that you post more of your reciepes, garden, and crafting. YOU ARE A GREAT WRITER…thank YOU

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