antoinettebrandt
Whisper
Austrian
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Open book
My face peels as if getting to the middle of a twisted plot, my spine is sore, I’m used too much, I’ve got finger stains from every one whose ever touched me. Some of my inside is missing, how does one come to the ending of things if you have to keep skipping the important parts; It doesn’t matter really, you get the gist of what I’m saying. I’m worn and lightweight as a paperback laid out on a summer day. You read my expressions plainly; your eyes skimming over the poor grammar, you say “ I want to write myself in your story “ and scribble your name on my arm.
1
Jun 19, 2018
Untitled
. / . / .
11
Jun 18, 2018
Raindrops
. / . / .
9
Jun 17, 2018
Doom
First it was my throat. My lymph nodes were swollen. I knew it was a blocked throat chakra. / The words would not come out right, / The words would not come out at all.
9
Jun 11, 2018
Dine in
. / . / A car hopper runs down the drive-through to say Hey
9
Jun 9, 2018
II.
. / . / .
7
Jun 6, 2018
I.
. / . / My eyes like a sharpened blade
7
Jun 6, 2018
Only love
. / . / .
9
Jun 5, 2018
tips when you're depressed
i always recommend / if you can't stop crying / to drink a cold glass
25
May 1, 2018
athena
softness. mushroom / stupor, hazy wine eyes. / she wants to get up to leave.
14
Feb 16, 2018
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