Posted in Photography, Poetry

Broken Voices

My glasses are kaleidoscope lenses.

I’m not sure how this happens. This felt hurt in soaked land. Or why I share the shards. Pieces not able to fit together. How far I fell before I flapped wings, sewed as rainbow parachutes.

Sometimes. —-I dont play fair. I play true. You asked me not to care. I played true then too. Quieted my heart until i barely breathed. Felt unsure why my soul still sang. Then dared the impossible. And you ran faster than the wind could carry me.

7 thoughts on “Broken Voices

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