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Crepe Paper Soul - Mary Elliott

In solitude,

Loneliness arrived on time,

Whispering to my fears,

“It’s too late,

In this flesh encasement,

To try again.”

The problem with sadness?

She speaks,

In every language.

Remembering the details,

Of how I broke.

Pulled up high, and fastened tight,

That brightly-colored,

crepe paper unicorn,

Cracked wide-open,

From the last blow.

Then the people ran to pick through,

The sweetness of my soul.


Mary Elliott is a writer and poet based out of Santa Barbara, CA. She studied English literature and language at the University of California at Santa Barbara where she received her degree, and has enjoyed a career in public relations, with an emphasis in arts marketing. She enjoys creative writing, poetry, reading, and walking.



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