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i filled my days with you.
i knew, in the headiness of it all,
that meant i would be grey at your absence.
now, in the bleakness of dreary spring,
when showers are meant to make blossoms grow,
we've been plucked apart.
and my resentment shouldn't
grow in blossoms' place but
i can't seem to scrub the desire from my heart.
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i had to
smash my fist against
the rigid marble that held our weight
and our scotch
before your attention was drawn away
from all of your own hurt that was
radiating from you like a dying sun.
Pig Pen and Lucy, but the doctor
is not in.
a sister and a mothers' sins
aren't all that hold you in contempt.
i wasn't made to fix all of you
and you confessing on my behalf
won't bring either of us closer
to healing.
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i still have that audio of you
calling out the universe for
all its silly ways it made it look
like we belonged together.
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hrghh another long and difficult day... TUMBLR!! fetch me a photo of The Fictional Character .....
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i killed myself today.
another of my lives come and gone
in the blink of an eye.
i was wild and out of control,
nothing i said could calm me.
i held my head under a pillow until
i felt myself still.
these little deaths happen so quickly.
i'm efficient when i go in for the kill.
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How many people can I be perfect for?
I thought it was one but then another and
Another and said the same and eventually
My mind numbed to what perfect could mean.
I don't think I can be perfect for anyone.
I'm certainly not perfect for everyone so
How am I perfect for the ones that I've found?
And how can I be honest and not let them down?
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Cheryl Strayed, Tiny Beautiful Things
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I saw clouds on the horizon and thought it was rain.
Weeks came and went, but the rain never did.
The clouds only darkened and drew closer.
I knew there was disaster in them but
I didn't know it was a forest fire.
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Tabula rasa.
Erased.
Expunged.
Or at least I tried.
I cried when someone pointed out my
Mismatched socks and when shuffle
Decided it was time for that one song.
I don't know why I weep when I hear
Certain melodies.
Wet.
I won't look at a guitar the same way
Nor can I look east without a pang.
I can't even touch myself the same,
Even if he calls my name.
Dirt.
From 100 to 0 real quick,
I took away your voice, your face,
Your sickly sweet distance.
But footsteps in mud linger longer
Than the walker, and I am nothing if not
Wet dirt.
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You filled me to brimming.
I'm not surprised I am
Hollowed at our parting.
But I knew it was coming.
Did you?
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last week i went
2 days without drinking
any water at all.
70% to 60% to
half water, half blood.
it took another body
with 70% water to
raise my glass to
the desert dunes guarding
my gumless bones.
water consumed by water,
i felt reunification.
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its her DAY
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hey its me, your local burden,
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What if I got weirder
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i am a meat-popsicle of mistakes disguised as a human
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