The free we’re born to be……

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She was born to fly,
but her bright wings got snatched,
used to patch broken things.
So she crumples up small,
sliding down under the coming up short,
pushed like putty into despairing places
so the holes in their souls don’t show.

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But even though it may stop the squeak and shudder when she flattens out low,
her life was never meant to be a wedge beneath shaky table legs.

So she drops down deep to the song beyond their reach
and lets it sing her brave heart free,
to find a truer way and never spend another day
feeling homesick for the me she’s born to be.

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“We just get the one life,  you know.  Just one.
You can’t live someone else’s or think it’s more important just because it’s more dramatic.
What happens matters.”
-from Ghost Town

This is a snippet from my August zine,  Ripplesongs.
It’s a re-write I cobbled together for us all,
but most especially for the hidden ones who’ve been stolen away,
trafficked.
I’ll be drawing a name from the comments this week and sending out a copy to you
and a bundle,  in your honor,  to the brave girls recovering in safe places in my city.
A howl,  a prayer,
in defiance of despair.

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