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I think it was being labeled "neurotic" that did it. Sort if like windows being smashed from the inside and my teeth did a tiny little dance against o..
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You're not welcome here,not after midnight sank into your soul and you tasted every inch of skin that hung, swaying, screaming in the breeze from the ..
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The windows shake, his eulogy screamed the stillness before you...
Cry...
And it's midnight trapped inside the afternoon as I watch the sky coll..
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Try, try one more time...
As I weave the tears of the moon into the form of your smile and place the ignorance of June delicately around my neck, t..
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This is not a poem. It's more of a rant, which I never do but I need someplace to put this.
I have a son. A glorious 13 week old bundle of chubby..
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I'm not yelling this to him, not again, it's been
seven years
since I first ran my tongue over the way his lips curl and
that crook..
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It's...
irrelevant
we're two stories, picture books rubbed
raw and torn pages, he's
ripped
up the middle, down the lines of hi..
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He sat there, turning his fingers
around and studying the fingernails that
tip tapped
against the windows I had kept...
clo..
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It's pathetic
how this resembles the drifting, half attempted smiles that appeared on the carpets
in the middle of 2005...
..
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He's drenched in all the Tuesdays I walked away from, backwards, towards him, in every
hour
I shattered mirrors with the violenc..
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