Jan 08

3/29/70


Her eyes open and close,

adjusting to the light of her room. 

She watches the fan circle a few times, 

her mind stirring in the early morning hours. She watches the shadows dance on the ceiling, moving across the paint like phantoms. 

She breathes in deep, counting the breaths of her love next to her. 

one 

two 

three. 

She reaches to her right, her hand dusting the table next to her with a sleep-like heaviness. 

The light next to her flicks on as she rises from her covers, the light hair on her arms standing at attention as the brisk air tickles along her skin. Her head is foggy but she stays standing nonetheless. She walks through the world on her own two feet, the ghost pains tapping at her spine as she laughs. But they can’t stop her. Nothing can. Not when someone cares as she does. Not when a soul like hers has people to love— and never when those people love her back. She is unbeatable, ineffable, untouchable. She is the Queen of all, the Queen of hearts. 

The Queen Of Us.
About the Author: lila woodard
everyone is a genius, but if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid — Albert Einstein
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