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I bide my timein a beautiful counterfeit reality made of necessityswallowing down a loneliness so acuteit threatens everythingand achingaching with a violenceonly you would understand the blood& the bones
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I was born strongmy mother and father made sure I knew it still I look back in retrospecthow have I walked through firesforests of painslept in all those beds of nailsand endured inner monologues of self brutalityhow I have written this story without an ending yet I was born in the dirtlife made sure I
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you see something crippling and delicate in all womenwas it your mother or your father who taught you that we must all be handled with sympathy?surely not the one who tore her body opento give you lifeso, I ask you to try and understandthat I am more than what you have been taught a womancan
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I don’t want you and I don’t love you. I haven’t felt anything remotely close to those feelings in longer than I can remember. Longer than we were even together. I can coexist in the same world as you without feeling the ache of heartbreak that used to be nailed on to your name. We
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it’s not obsession, I know obsession it’s something to be feared I fear that I am sick with love even my bones long to be broken by you if it was the only way to be touched this endearment is a virus it is a violent act to my very being a betrayal a blight
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they say you’ll be different when you find the right onea platitude I have not learnedto take comfort from that is not to say that I am not giving itopportunity or hope but if pain has named meif it has given me features, shape, depth, edges, coloringthen who am I when it evolves, finds a
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it was not death that took himbut as I lay here next to cold sheetsforgetting what his voice sounded likeor the way his face still seemedsomewhat youthfulafter that first deploymentand the places his hands bruised bestwhen he returnedit might as well have beenbut he’s out there runningriding a wave of paindrowning in the warmth of
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I could do itstretched hoursturning dirtquiet nightsturning pagesraising flagsraising babiescontentment with whatthey seeas less but we know is the most I could do itslow, tender, intentional, blameless loveone touch, one desireI couldbut only for him the blood& the bones
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There are parts of that day and I remember so vividly. The sound of the gravel road beneath our feet. The way it crunched in response to our steps was almost soothing.. inviting.. Saying yes, come into these woods, please. I have always felt the pull in these places to go deeper into the quiet.
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some of us knowthat we are better as a conceptthan a realitywe don’t preach distanceor glorify solitudefor our own peacebut for yours the blood& the bones