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I lose count of how many times I am catcalled on my way to the gym
I think that maybe turning around, eating an entire pizza and
never coming back would stop this from happening
I realize it wouldn't
I would still be a woman

"Smile baby,"
I hear as I leave my car
Just 3 hours of sleep to get me to where I am and
I am tired enough to silence a response from my ******* but
not enough to quit

A guy standing at the bus stop sees my hands wrapped and
tells me that boxing is ****
I wonder how clenched fists
self-protection and
the desire to make it home alive
each night is **** but
I don't ask

When I don't hit the bag hard enough
I remember the force of
his body and
I let my knuckles do the speaking
there is no stopping after the rage is
reborn

A man tells me how lucky I am
to have this figure
ignorant to the fact that hard work is nothing
remotely similar to luck
a string I have been stretching and pulling
that is what my body is
luck,
I think about how he will never have enough of it to touch me

I like the way it feels to
be sore from something willingly
to get up from the ground without a hand helping
these bruises are proof of my attempts

I have been practicing my run
to make up for all of the times
I havent had the guts to
my limbs are reaching forward for
every time they've been held back

I like to say that survival
is a choice made in the aftermath of destruction
the conscious decision to chew through broken glass rather
than swallow it whole
survival is not as simple as I didn't die
it is deciding not to

Hand squeezing wrist,
he told me I'd never be enough for anyone anyway
well today I am enough for
me

I'm working on myself
for myself
building ash into bone into muscle
this is strength learning how to show
this is me learning how to pull through
this is me doing exactly
that
You say you hate Los Angeles,
the city but mostly people there and
I can't help but wonder how
you managed to meet everyone
in the entire county,
a couple million or so,
from the few trips you took out here

But I think the problem isn't that
you hate Los Angeles
I think the problem is
you love me too much
at least I'll tell myself that when
I'm laying in bed with open eyes
wondering why you aren't here

I offer you planes, plans, my wallet
I say I'll pay, just for two days and
you say no without hesitation
I say I have a life and
I want you to see it and
you say you have no interest

Well,
if you have no interest then
why are you calling me?
why waste time talking over
nothing?
what is it that you are so
aftaid of?

You say we'll fight and
I know it's true although
it's not suffice to say
it's all we'd do
I say what about the making up that
comes after it all,
isn't that worth it
after all?

I can't have you in
my life if you're not here
this is something I know
I reach for arms that aren't there and
It's a bad habit I'm getting used to
I don't want to go back to
my old life
I want you to be in my new

but you hate Los Angeles and
school and everything in
life is too hard for you
you're mad I have opinions and
you never listen to them anyway
so you can stay
in the heat that will eventually
become cold
and I'll leave you alone because
that's what you want

I know it isn't
but I don't want to go back to
my old life
so I guess all there is to do
is to just find someone
new
Funny how a year can come and go so fast
I don't know when last June became this one but it did, quickly.
I almost swore on our future
I almost did,
almost

This is another Sunday but in the present now
Time has shifted unrecognizable
I bet you wouldn't notice me next to you on a sidewalk or at a streetlight or in the ocean drowning
I don't think you remember the sound of my voice but
I still taste yours, humming

Maybe you think about me, maybe
Probably not, you probably don't
Look at how far we didn't make it
Look at how long we didn't stay

Back again, summer and heat and unfortunate desire
I have come again in pieces
Full circle, your arms could still be around me
Full circle, they are not even close
Full circle, I still haven't let go
But I'm coming around
I'm coming around
Still,
Still,
Still
I'm coming around,
I swear, I am.
I.
Bonfires
and smokey wine,
nothing more than laughter.

II.
Catching burning hot coals is
easy enough when you trust
the person throwing them.

III.
I hate fast cars
I hate waking up and learning
someone has died.

— The End —