Posts
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Teenage Girls: An Angry Rant
I want to write something beautiful
but I don't have anything beautiful inside me.
This spring it has been cloudy and rainy almost everyday,
but oh...those sunny days.
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Life Plans, In The Style of Fredrik Backman
Rori Acher is eighteen years old and dying. Any licensed medical professional would pronounce her perfectly healthy. But there are many ways to be dying that are not physical.
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Chicago Audition
I used to walk into a theater and it was salvation.
Stage lights and people who filled up a room,
I was happy to watch them for hours.
I wanted to become some part of that
some part of the instant admiration
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Faith
They told you to believe.
So you did. With all your heart.
And that heart betrayed you,
again and again,
so you beat it bloody
until it cowered
and you ran from it.
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Spring Rain
I don't believe in leaves in March
but here I am, showered full to bursting in May's nakedness
I didn't believe, but I knew the truth, they would come.
I rage,
I weep,
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Humanity
It was a dark thing that lived in their chests
It was a heavy thing that kept them tied to the ground
Unaware of the power their wings held
And yet so very alert to the fact
That wings they did have
Feathers and muscles and tendons
Loves
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The Unsent Letter to a Certain Liar
Dear a certain Liar,
Yep, you read that right. Liar.
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remember not understanding what red white and blue meant
america is a kindergartner with her hair in pigtails. her
eyes are bright blue & curious. she wants to know the answers
to everything and she can't understand why
no one will tell her.
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Paradox
Love is a paradoxical thing.
I want desperately to be loved.
I want to wake up to a "good morning, my favorite person" text.
I want the last thing I see at night to be a little red heart emoji.
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Anger
My anger sits just below my sixth rib.
Nestled next to my heart,
the rage has easy access to my bloodstream.
My anger utilizes that location well.
It spreads like a lit match dropped in kerosene.
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1am
Home is
trying not to smudge
our still-sticky nail polish
on the carpet
as we sit
cross-crossed
on the floor
spilling secrets
& memories
our speech sliding
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The Dark
I'm not scared of the dark
I don't trust it
I don't trust what it could reveal
I'm not scared of the dark
I'm scared of my mind
I'm scared of the games my brain plays
I'm not scared of the dark