Redress Me

Wild Heart Scribe

Don’t dress me in this…

this stunning dress

with the prickly underside

that replaces the radiance

with what can’t be seen

but only felt

by the weary

Don’t dress me in this…

this lonely misery

beneath the Belgian lace

that chides my childlike joy

with what can’t be spoken

but only felt

by the weary

Don’t dress me in this…

this forgottenness

pulled through each stitch

that bullies my being

with what can’t be solved

but only felt

by the weary

Don’t dress me in this…

this hang off me reaction

in the too tight sleeves

that crowds our conviction

with what can’t be sure

but only felt

by the weary

Don’t dress me in this…

this ardor that cleaves to my body

that finishes in grief

that trails me

like a train of lace

sweeping the floor

erasing my every step…

soon you’ll forget I was here

my scent…

View original post 46 more words

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