LAYERS – a poetic prose piece

 

…Young girl, soothsayer; perched on a stool, contemplating her face in the mirror, naysayer, delayer, dives DEEP into her eyes and practices sad, glad, mad, whimsical prayers not spoken, PLAYACTING, adding layers to her psyche, trying to be what YOU want, slayers, what should she do, betrayers, what did she see in those eyes [?]  Players, FAKE, until she really did not know who she was…

I find old feathers in the grass, other times baby bird fluff.  Is this molting or a struggle well fought?  What layers are entwined in the soul of a bird?

Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I want to fly.

Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I want to fly.

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