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I only ever wanted to be the better half of you
Until I realized it was never my place to complete you
We come along to compliment, not complete.
a net of fine mesh was at once broadly cast
o'er the mind of mankind who was caught up *en masse
a list of things i keep having dreams about:

1. underwater. not drowning, but free to pull my head up towards the white, bubbling sunlight. my head pushes through but then it is night and i am in the lake, weighed down by white dress. men put hands on my shoulders, words murmured in rapid prayer. i am baptized but there is blood on my hands. and then those hands join with others and we dance around flame, murmuring together. we are are all arriving we are all arriving we are all arriving. i did not believe in dancing but i dance among the pagans and the black trees look like obsidian knives, jagged, pointing towards lady moonlight. and my face is aflame and my mother says my grandmother spins in her grave each time i pray to a god who is not of abraham but then i realize that i have become my own god and i pray only to myself. and then i am the one spinning and spinning and then i am the water again but it is deep blue like melted velvet and now hands do not pull me up do not pray for me they push down and this time i am drowning.

2. we are lying in bed. my sheets have little roses on them and the lamplight is warm and forgiving and i am in satin and you are in nothing and we kiss and touching you feels good again. and i sing Dylan to you and i guard you with my own heart. and my feet rest in swimming pools that reflect me into you and suddenly there is no me and no you there is just dimness and an airy room where you are showing me such love and tenderness with your lovely blood and bones and i clutch my necklace and wonder what this would feel like if it were a cross instead of a moon. i cry because this was all that i had left because i feel thirteen again like it's the first time i said i would wait until i had a husband and so that's why i say i will marry you yes my love yes because we must atone we must always. atone.

3. barefoot. running. muddy dress, american forest, it smells like home only different. smokier, damper, sadder. gunshot. i slip behind the reddish brown trunk of one of the giants living in the woods and breathe. breathe. scream. hands around my stomach, pull and tear, drag along wet red clay. barefoot. my dress is red and my face is red and my hair is a dark night sky for a single moon. they chant. **** the witch **** the witch **** the witch **** the witch. i was buried in a churchyard. i wake up feeling thirsty and needing to check my voicemail.

4. a thousand mirrors. like versailles, only not. my hands on your lapels. you are seven feet tall and you love me. your hair is wild and i am an enchantress in lavender. we dance to piano and mournful horn, a thousand miles away. i am two inches tall, but you love me like i am the new moon.
 Jun 2015 Isabella Pullivan
XIII
If you're a diamond in the dirt, then let's get *****!
no one believed in ghosts
until we realized everyones transparent
no one holds on tighter
than when they realize
they have to let go
but the terrifying part
is that im not sure
if ive ever been held
my hands are made of smoke
my heart is caged vapor
im reaching
for so many people
but im a phantom
made of lies & half truths
how can i be honest with you
when i could never admit to myself
that im a ghost
im a real boy
i chant to myself
as my strings get pulled
a marionette made of fog
the realest ill ever be
is when im spouting
the opinions of others
out of my incorporeal mouth
tying together borrowed words
with my ethereal tongue
as if i have a thought process of my own
whats it feel like to be a ghost?
id say like hell
but ghosts dont feel much anyway
were all living on borrowed feelings
donated sympathy
& hand-me-down ignorance
an army of ghosts
that cant even defend themselves
we bash each other
with words that are almost
as hollow as our chests
no one knows anything
about themselves
but everyone knows everything
about everyone else
we see through each other
but we cant see ourselves
we try to reflect one another
but the vapor is always shifting
its maddening
being so shapeless
yet so defined
i want a body of my own
i want a place i can call home
i want to not be shamed for my opinion
i want to respect others fully
ghosts are meant to terrify
& let me be honest when i say
ive never seen anything as ghostly
as this generation of opinionated plagiarists

[holyoak]
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