My Beautiful CurseA Poem by Britaini GrossMy Beautiful Curse
Prone. I was born with a faulty heart, and it was doomed from the very start. When I was young I wanted to fall in love, but that’s not something I’m capable of. Clone. Overtime I learned the motions, how to imitate all emotions. Everyday I was trapped on a stage, I acted everything, happy, sad, rage. Alone. I spent hours staring into my ceiling, as if the small eternity was healing. My bones echoed and my soul faded, the last shine of my humanity dissipated. Stone. My emotions never arrived, I wonder if they died. Long ago I might have cried, but now I couldn’t if I tried. © 2015 Britaini GrossAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorBritaini GrossPiedmont, SCAboutI've always loved literature, even when I was too little to read my grandfather enlightened me with poems from around the world. Sylvia Plath is my favorite writer and my idol. I've never published an.. more..Writing
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