You’re like an echo I’m waiting to hear back from…
…but at this point I think I’m talking to myself.
S.Lilobell (What did you think talking to the darkness would be like?)
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I can’t let him read my poetry because how could I go back to being strangers with someone who has seen my soul?
-m.k. // words are windows to the soul
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From Brenna Twohy's book, Swallowtail. (Button Poetry, 2019).
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[Image description: A cut-up/found poem. Transcript is below.]
---
my daughter gets older
she learns about my self removal
she learns about my guilt
Taking my daughter to my laser hair removal appt
so she doesn't feel
so she doesn't get older
so she doesn't care about it when Taking laser self removal
my daughter gets older
she learns about hair
she learns she doesn't care about my guilt
she learns she doesn't care about my self removal
and so my daughter gets older
Taking my daughter to my laser hair removal appt
Taking my daughter to my removal
my daughter gets older
my daughter gets older
my daughter gets older
---
on: going no-contact | original post
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it is july and no one loves me, 2022
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Songbird, 2023 🕊️
Pieces of hope for today, tomorrow, and the days after that
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What existed first? The depression or the loneliness? What existed first? The love or the laughter? What existed first? The sadness or the apathy? What existed first? The shock or the panic? What existed first? The loss or the ache? What existed first? You or the face you pretend is yours? The smiles you dont mean and the tears you hide, the insults you bury and that fake silly pride.
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I’m worried that everything I ever thought of him is more than he’ll ever be willing to give me.
-m.k. // firestarter pt. 7
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