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  • Writer's pictureSharon Frances

Starting New

Updated: Apr 10, 2023

Squish me like a lump of clay

Deflate me like a balloon

Break me like a weed in a storm

This life has torn me up and spit me out

And I sit here wondering

How do I become half full

How do I know what I need

Who am I after





Damn near gone

But I turn around and I am still here

With no answers

Without ideas

Almost fifty years on this planet

I had more instincts

when I was born

I am a lump of clay

A stretched balloon

A soaked weed

Sitting here

Laying here




Wishing I knew

what comes next

Maybe a tattoo

A band around my arm

A magical spell

That reminds me

I am art

That reminds me I can fly

No matter how empty or alone or confused or depleted or worn or hopeful or or or or or or however I feel in this life

I pull at the clay

Starting to mold myself

I will surely have wings

I will surely have rolls and dimples and wrinkles

I will surely find a smile

In the clay body

Surprise myself that I am more than half full

That what I need is between my fingers

Wet and slippery and new

Like a baby

Halfway through

These words and images are the property of the poet, Sharon Frances.

Do not use in part or whole without permission.

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