Beauty Is Not.

It is as if my mind were an old, rusted cabinet
pressed with peeling paint and risky shelves,
like a prison for my beliefs.
The compartments complete with miscellaneous debris filling deep-
within the spaces
of each fickle
Presumption.  Promise.  Prayer.
I cannot close this dungeon
as my mind clings to nothing within it
Outlining conceptual beauty complete-
or complete absence thereof.


About hannahjustine

This is my life story. Don't expect for me to entirely spill the beans on everything, but my life is certainly a sloppy recipe of writing, research, realizations and love. Basically, I'm learning as I go. I strive to positively impact my community, my sphere of influence. I believe that this happens only through living your life to the fullest! View all posts by hannahjustine

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