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Quiet, quiet
In the suffocating dark--
Iron stillness,
Taste of blood
Biting my tongue.
My words are the sound
Of a tree falling
At midnight.
Nothingness, nothingness.
I am strung between two
Containers of empty
Here, I know, my prayers
Are useless.
I am quieted by the
Roaring silence
And the expansive cage
Of my privacy.
Worthless, worthless.
Here, you\'d look upon me
As one looks at a child alone in the street
Afraid of its independence
And bravery.
Fearless, fearless.
Here I am a skipped sunrise;
The exception that proves the rule.
Tears of salt,
Blood of sand,
Skin of dry and papery hay.
Useless, useless.

She falls softly down from towering pedastools...

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The following comments are for " Sawdust Stars"
by shefallssoftly

sawdust memories


This gave me the chills; your imagery is intense and colorful. My favorite line was "and the expansive cage of my privacy". That can go many ways I realize that, that's the beauty of it. Overall, I got the isolative and feeling of emptiness.

Good write,


P.S. where have you been?

( Posted by: macbeth [Member] On: May 14, 2005 )

I've been stressing out over APs, SATs, and remembering what it feels like to fall in love, and to hate. I have been, more or less, living outside of words... A novel idea for me, I think. My apologies if anyone missed me, but I feel a bout of writer's block coming on so I may only be here intermittently.
Thanks for commenting, Laura.

( Posted by: shefallssoftly [Member] On: May 15, 2005 )

Lovely, sad, true, sorry
Tears of salt,
Blood of sand,
Skin of dry and papery hay.
Useless, useless.

If something hard and sad and aching can be said to be lovely, this is.

The more I read your work, the more I dread that you will take it into the world and grow it somewhere far away from our eyes. I hope not.

No comments on this one. For some reason I don't think you wrote this for the commenting side of the street. The boy I once was (and still am, many nights, and in many dark places) never wanted to be the exception that proved the rule, but always seemed to be stuck playing that role.

I have found comfort in the wind.

( Posted by: andyhavens [Member] On: May 29, 2005 )

sawdust of stars...
haven't given enough time to your work of writes,
have said previous, you have much knowledge and know for such a young woman...personally, I found that scary, my reasons...this write is scary, too...In the sense, I feel your pain, or
lack or wandering, or wondering or maybe to much of the works, you reach with this write and you gave me reasons to think...
Write on, girlfriend...the stars reach far and you got it...I'd like cross paths one day,
'cause, you are and will go places...then, I could say, "I knew her when..."


( Posted by: Robinbird [Member] On: May 30, 2005 )

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