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Confession


By: Paulina Firozi


If blood runs thicker than water

why is it that I can’t swim in the deep waters of trust

there is no bond that cannot be broken

52 pieces of glass scattered across my pathway

to some kind of future

without a family

I picture a summer day, mid-june

white doves compliment a princess dress

but the cloudy skies cast a shadow

on empty wooden chairs

silent violins

no guests to entertain

back to the present, I reach out a hand

searching for a hand with similar features

life lines that have crossed the same paths

on palms that have grasped the same doorknobs

but have

in no way

entered the same rooms

my fingers stretch to far reaches

as if

if they grew another inch

they’d find fingers searching for me as well

but I am standing alone in the center

of a crop circle

running through fields of wheat searching for a city light

I am miles off base

with no basic sense of direction

if my compass pointed North

there’d be a home to the South that I

would never get to

But you see

I broke that compass years ago

took it apart and jumbled the mechanics

I fumbled between thoughts and metal parts

that would take me away

from bonds that I did not want created

And glass I did not want mended

and a river of blood I could not swim across

I did not want to know

or to feel

what hurt lay on the other side

so I broke bridges

and poked holes in the stubborn earth

in ground not fertile nor fruitful

and pitched a glass case of secrets

or a tenth

or something

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