you are in these bones, but they are not you.
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the vanished woman
A reflex: reaching for the hand of someone newly dead, raw grief erupting silently from a wound too deep to stitch. The memory of love. It’s throwing its head back, spine bowed, screaming. Screaming. You said never again. Read more
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November 3, 2019
Lovely in a way that makes no sense, all these pieces like puzzles from different countries; she’s all colors, all kinds, all cold and warm winds and honey-slow time She’s windows and light and the moon and stars and scratching her right leg with her left foot in ugly socks making coffee at ten o’clock Read more
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self vs everything
i am all tongue and teeth and meat. i am a mess and i am nothing. i am nothing. nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing nothing but the hunger that rides me, the absurdity of ego, the push of obsession. the shrug and tear of self vs loathing. once, relentless. once, endless. once upon a time, Read more
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yandere
I don’t romanticize toxicity, I know what I am. I know what I’m doing. I like breaking strong things and I’m good at it. But this is new. There’s nothing romantic about my obsession, about the calculated pull of the chain you’re not even aware you’re tangled in. The anticipation of the trap closing has Read more
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Devouring.
I remember you in my bed, my terrible Spanish making you laugh. The way your hands drifted over my body, an afterthought to the conversation we were engrossed in. I know she knew. But there we were, my thigh draped over your hips, my face cradled in your hands, devouring. I remember the fight at Read more
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