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  • Writer's pictureKara Laymon

Edith

If I told you the truth

about a girl I once knew,

I suppose you’d just squint and scoff.

Never has there lived a person worse off

than this tortured ghost to be.

So, let me tell you the story as she

would want you to know…

She was the image of perfect

from her head down to her toes.

She believed that all pain was worth it,

if it led to fulfilled desire,

but the number of these expenditures,

well it only grew higher and higher.

I have not the time,

to explain to you each way that she sought transcendence,

nor do I have the will to explain why

she pursued this string of events.

For today, what I’ll give

is the mere setting -

the town she grew up in,

a place much worth the effort of forgetting.

If you didn’t know any better,

you’d think everything was fine.

Sunshine is the constant weather,

never a cloud in the sky.

Only the natives know how much effort it takes to survive.

See the shadows crawling between trees?

They’re the remains of people

once just like you and me.

Do you notice how it’s the tiniest bit hard to breathe?

We know it’s because the landscape is skilled at suffocating.

You see the sand of the beach,

the line where the shore meets the tide.

We see the place where haunted victims go to die.

You speak to the people in shops as if they’re your friends,

but they’re predators waiting for the prey to be caged in.

I hope you’re picking up on this thread,

nothing is as it seems.

Everyone here,

Everyone wants you dead,

so I highly advise you leave.


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