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kirsten hower

Updated: Wed, 13 Jan 2016 07:34 pm

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I have been writing for ten years out of my 20 and when I first wrote a poem I won second place in a small poetry contest that gave me hope I had some actual talent. I've had a rough life but who hasn't? Poetry is the escape that helped me get through a lot of huge obstacles. I'm interested in writing, reading, art, music, and meeting people. I love just about everything including old school cars and learning (yes I'm a nerd, no I don't care). I am the proud mother of a beautiful seven month old baby girl. She is my world and my rock.


Sacrificial Suicide I lay my head upon his bed.. He whispers secrets of the dead. To the song of night terrors, I drift asleep. faintly I hear you weep. It's a desolate place I've stumbled upon. An ashen field swallowing a poor fawn. The winds full of cries and shouts of denial. As I drift further down this spiral. I hardly notice as i slip into the abyss. Life emptying me through my own wrists. A faint hand reaches and caresses me. I brush it aside as I drift free. A riptide of hollowed eyes. This is where they say goodbyes. I kiss his ashen lips, now petrified. Yet he seduces me before I can hide. Sucking me underneath a black wave. Stealing my blood in his cave. I'm welcomed to the town of oblivion. Where the scorned they go to dwell in sin. My hands suddenly become cold. These pink lips creep to blue now I'm old. Now I rest my head upon his lap. Death sure feels like one long nap

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