Just like a candy wrap
Just like a candy wrap
I shine so pretty
See right into me
A prize inside
If you tear through me
Hard to piece
together again
The luster is gone
You can't pretend
Just like a candy wrap
Just like a candy wrap
Fits neatly in
The palm of your hand
Like a thousand others
Manu-
-factured by plan
Each touch is loud
Each finger crinkles
Even a look
can make me wrinkle
Just like a candy wrap
Just like a candy wrap
You've told me so
over and over
You shout it loud
so I'm not bolder
Still is there a reason here
to stay?
I know
candy wraps
get all thrown away
I'm not a candy wrap
No I
I am the sweet inside
I am the hours poured into
A mold and left to dry
I'm not a candy wrap
And I
I am the hand that holds
The mover of the world
You thought would be all I could know
I'm not a candy wrap
But I'm
Just like a candy wrap
I'm not candy wrap
But I'm
Just like a candy wrap
But I
About the Creator
Corwynna
I'm a 28 year old writer and biologist with a million hobbies and enough passion for all of them!
Explore my music, stories, and homebrew on my site:
https://sites.google.com/view/corwynnascorner/home
Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson2 days ago in Fiction
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