Posts
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It Is Still Summer
It is still summer. Not fall.
Call me stubborn, but I refuse to forget. I choose to remember.
I remember riding the train, speeding past hills that glow yellow from the sun.
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Teenager
Maybe being a
teenager is just a con
stant state of panic.
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My Eyes Hurt
Minute tremors burrow under my skin as
yesterday’s mistakes become today's problems.
Eyelids itchy and irritable, I blink over and over
Loves
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Hopelessness is an Unplucked Apple
Galore are the hung fruits.
Their ample flesh and roundness;
their cherub cheeks reddened
from the pinching of a breeze.
They are tapered to branches
dangling perfectly, prostituted
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