Thursday 19 December 2013

Every December

In one night, I became undone
two years ago. Falling apart
in another's hands
It wasn't my choice -
I didn't choose this.
In fact, I had no say
and yet I'm the one who remembers
and unravells, crying
because I live with it now.

This was two years ago
and it comes back every December
before Christmas,
and I feel plagued
and diseased,
almost ragged like the old doll
thrown to the side.

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