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as days have past
and so have mine
the climate, changed
and the weather, gone

Nevermore

will i expect
greatness from my own.

as a sea that had lost its saltiness
and as skies earn faded stars
as an old print fades away
and as a tree that shed its leaves

Nevermore

will i expect for you to come,
as for me to wait

the **** has gone,
and the judge has come
to wreak havoc upon my life
but to bring
understanding
to my restless soul.
to the famewhore me
No matter the darkness in others
They still recognize kindness
Even if they cannot trust it

No matter the stone
It can be cooled beneath the sun
And warmed beneath the moon

No matter how they respond
They will remember how you made them feel
Even if the love they never had remains a mystery

No matter
You cannot change the world
But you can turn on the light
Younglings in a field
All the world is abundance
True nature of love
Beautiful Grey and Darkness**


Stream and leaves decay.

Navy green, brown, clay-blue.

Subtle shades.


Cold bones, wandering mind.

What am I looking for?


Hidden world

Creep over my body.

Take me slowly.

Reality slips away and another replaces it.

Two actors, one protagonist.


Pale and melted

Colour floats on the water.

Dancing, finding

Folds and creases.

Reflections, refractions.


Mild cold

Makes its home in the empty spaces

Between fabric and skin.

Goosebumps.


In-between, twill.

everything and nothing.

experience and oblivion.


Hide me, let me

freely wander

inner worlds.

Careless in

Beautiful grey and darkness.
Thoughts while writing under the bridge.
One is none, two is one.
 Feb 2015 Brittany Zedalis
Bec
Relapse, n.
a return of a disease or illness after partial recovery from it*

I'm curious as to know if there is a limit here.
Whether or not after all these times
I can still call it "relapsing".
I can't seem to figure out if I have either
partially recovered,
or if what I deal with is a constant that
just takes breaks.
I refuse to place myself in the bubble
of the sentence or two of a
generalized description.
I have relapsed.
But I am so much more than that.
 Feb 2015 Brittany Zedalis
Bec
Red
 Feb 2015 Brittany Zedalis
Bec
Red
I fear that my heart
has lost its' color of life.
Cut me open and you will see
black and blue,
a bruise buried deep within me.
Still so young, I know,
but after so many bullets
the force within my ribcage now
stutters and stalls.
Could I survive,
should I replace it with steel?
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