24.2.1986
Does a list of my fragmented thoughts count as poetry?
I sat on the ground today
For at least a couple of hours
Staring at a spot
Where a pile of ash had once been poured
Long blown away
I still sit there every year
Who will pour me onto the ground?
My mother was never the same after he died
His birthday is today
How long ago did he die?
I cant remember
I think it’s been a while
My fake tan is patchy
I look like a burn victim
Or a snake
My skin slowly peeling
A new me
Am I made of his ash?
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the derry girls have one brain cell between them, and it’s only available to either clare or james
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I honestly just want to die
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It’s fine I didn’t need a heart anyway
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ill miss you forever my dear big brother;; i hope you found peace with God
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ned: how are you feeling?
shane: i've got this headache that comes and goes
ryan, entering the room: hi guys
shane: fuck it's back
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shane in every episode:
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when all is said and done, you’ll believe God is a woman
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ok but reblog if you want scott lang as your grandma
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