Sandy Denny

who knows where the time goes is echoing in my ears 

i see photos of the boy who          -             me. 

and i feel nostalgic. 

i am not alone echoing in my ears 

i see photos of the who i am now with 

where the development goes 

where the memories settle 

where the stories shift and litter our mind trunks

this is all too honest and so not a poem. for me not a poem. this is nothing other than an entry of how i am in a moment of turmoil and i am being pushed in the deep. 

i had once felt outside of the grasp of making for living but i now know i am no different and that i must make to live for it is all crushing. i enjoyed my suppression and miss her dearly. i want to find her today but have been told there is some greatness in the working and unwinding of our subtle emotional casualties. 

i would like to quit school. this domain is not meant for all mothers. do not dare read here. 

please. like a signoff. 


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