Eileen Carney Hulme Poems

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No matter that my heart sinks,
sighs, with the weight of skeletons-

paths I forgot to follow
have slowly sealed

rooms go unrecognised
for fear of change

and I cry at the uncertainty of rainbows.

All the daydreams I stole,
refusing to give them back

are stored as silver dust
and each day is a small breath.

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