from slippery crevices inside her mind

that she landed herself onto which

was drowning her sorrows upon.




ted from the one place she had hoped

would keep her self-doubts softly safe

while her ego, silently, lived on.


When dealing with, healing and keeping

all secrecy-like, she wants to wake

And dreading the mysteries, histories

of which chances she had to take.


Tamura – she says – chain me to life

not death, as one is wont to wish.

Creeping upon, the stealth lives on

and leaves fairy godmother’s goodnight kiss.

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