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I want her to know that my lungs are burning with forest fires of anticipation -
waiting, always waiting, for her answer.
Having you in my life is making me miserable,
a word I often feel too privileged to throw...
Trigger warning: eating disorder...
you're not eating and we're trying everything we...
I let the rain massage my shoulders,
untying the knots in my back...
Whenever she bakes, I'm reminded of
Ink is my testimony; I pour it out and watch it bubble then boil until it burns my fingertips.
"Ready for warfare?", my mind antagonizes.
"I wasn't created for battlefields", my heart insists.
My heart is sick with grenades.
by M. Rene'
by Prophecies In Kodak