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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Adult · #2271282
I just wrote something. Not me.
There is a magical minute in the morning in
which it is impossible to get out of bed.
The room is the right temperature.
The sunlight is just peeking through the blinds.
The sounds of the birds getting ready to go hunt for food,
seems to gently tell your mind, get up, you're alive.

Slowly I toss the covers away from my body which shocks me with the change in temperature.
The alarm on my clock pierces the air and wakens my ragged nerves.
The neighbor's dogs bark at the newspaper kid as he rides by.
My mind starts listing the activities for the day: visit my sick friend, pick up my 'no baby for me' pills and a trip to the lawyer.

I am a single girl now. My life took a one hundred and eighty degree change.
Yesterday the divorce decree was final.
I can take the 'r' out of my identity, I am a Ms not Mrs.
I can put this oversized house up for sale and leave.

My EX was an unwanted, unspeakable thorn in my side.
He took from me my happiness, my dignity and my cognition.
He told me things, that I will never make it without him.
Oh yea? Well we will see. I have done living without him before.

I am a little nervous now. I knew this sensation would come.
I want to spread my wings that he clipped.
I will go out to see the world and learn what I missed.
Super Woman I am not. But next year, I will be Miss Liberated Woman of the Year.
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