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CHERILYN FERROGGIARO
Old Strings and Elbows some may lean towards his words as if he is master, but i know, yes, i have learned the hard way. i will cut my losses. i could be wrong, but perhaps my time of mourning was a short one, this haphazard landscape of falsehood grows tiresome as his lies become, his truth. some say i deserve better, gentlemen callers say- "if only" i say, i have done my time. yes, i have been broken, but i was not in line for love; toe to toe, i will buy a ticket to the upper midwest and snap his fingerbones to the sound of goodbye. An Author's Recollection buried stone-smooth, i have been told that i am a nothinghead, hopeless. with palms-flat against desert walls, i have been split to red by strongfist and hate. i am not a writer, he once said, but a bitch. maybe he was right--- -------just another painted woman tattooed across his chest as he put my coin in the jukebox and called out her name. Cherilyn Ferroggiaro is an italian brat from Sonoma, California. She currently studying to become a Physician's Assistant and enjoys photography. Cherilyn has appeared in a variety of poetry journals, both online and in print. Her most recent publications include Reflections, Meeting of the Minds, Tapestries, The Baroque Review, Poems Niendergasse, 63 Channels, Rustlings in the Wind, a contributing editor for the Regal Quill Quarterly, Tamafyhr Mountain Poetry, Thunder Sandwhich, Melic Review and Babel Magazine. |
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