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Poetry

Picking up the pieces

I am tweezing my way out of the chains

I built. Slowly.

I am full of swirling toxic pain colors

That breathing doesn’t calm.

Obsessive compulsive thoughts

Hitting me like a bus and backing up again.

I just want to be swallowed up in your arms.

But I hug my own. And move on. 

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by carla.naylor

Growing up doing musical theater I always gravitated towards the art world. I've been writing poetry my whole life but didn't know it.

Having a home filled with spirituality and Judaism have given me an outlook on life that wouldn’t have otherwise. My religion has given me strength, knowledge, and wisdom that helps me appreciate the sunshine each day and feel the emotions I put into my writing.


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