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01.20.03 - 7:30

what a thing to say.

it would be easier if the bruises on the inside showed so violently beautiful like the ones on the outside.

they say you cut yourself open and showed them all what lay inside. they say they watched your beating heart slow and stop. they say they closed your eyes for you and they say you opened them and your heart started beating like it had never stopped. they say you pulled yourself inside your skin and when you turned around you were whole again and i wonder what it takes, really, to make something whole again.

it's like the ghosts of all the mistakes you've ever made linger in the background. extras in a movie you never wanted to make. everyone watches you carefully and you all pretend that you're alone in this room. you don't want to admit they're here. they're too polite to mention it. and somewhere in the spaces between reality and perception the little ghosts fade. it's only you who can see them now, you and me. i'm not sure who wanted it to be this way.

just so confused about the why of it all. always so confused about the why of it all.

i can smell the potatoes in the oven and the cheddar melting so beautifully on top of them. i sit in one place for a while until i get cold and then i take bath after bath and i always think the hot water's going to run out.

but it never does.

she said, what you had was good for a while, then it changed. or maybe he said it and she sang it and the meanings grow together like the grafted limbs of a tree. something is bubbling. something is popping. something is growling under the surface of everything and i have to admit i'm a little nervous about what's going to happen when everything explodes.

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