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Mollie Apr 1
my ribs
as I push
my palms
against my chest to hold
rebirth of my
between cold hands
Mollie Mar 27
I never used to believe in ghosts
until I visited the places we'd been together;
they crowded all around me.
Ghosts needn't be palpable
pockets of energy from
beyond the grave;
the ghosts of people you've lost
exist solely in your memories.
Neural projections of all of the things
you didn't say; all the people who didn't stay.
Mollie Mar 3
now here you are:
your heart pining for a connection that it
doesn't believe to be severed;
you had no warning,
you had no inkling.
and it's only being taken out of your life
and into your head
do you realise how truly
alone you are.
and how broken you are
and how many mistakes you made
and how much you crave the small
like when they touch your leg
or stroke your hair
or wipe the stains of marinara sauce
from the crease of your upper lip,
do you realise that those small gestures
truly held you
and now you're alone.
and my god this pain will teach you a
valuable lesson in how you should
rely on the fickleness of another human's heart
to hold you together.
Mollie Feb 18
who knew a soul could ache in this way
Mollie Jan 21
she spread her huge wings and
flew up to the sky
she asked all the gods when it was
she would die
they responded in grief:
"your time will come soon.
but until then, dear girl,
you're destined to bloom"
I'm feeling numb. Disheartened. I question daily my worth, and the value I provide to this earth. Sometimes it gets so much that I just was to...disappear. To never have existed. It takes a lot to remind myself that we all have purpose, and we're all destined to bloom.
Mollie Nov 2018
burdened by the intense understanding of their anatomy,
their mortality
the human condition was to often forget how to live, for they always knew they would die.
from the tissues of the brain,
to the arteries within their hearts,
like psychics hovering over crystal *****,
humans saw themselves decay
and their world decay
with the pollution and destruction
they saw the effects of their reality forced upon those not aware enough to have a choice
how could they know that the creation of time would allow them to track every second
of grief,
every moment of pain.
time became an instrument of torture.
the days and the nights,
alone. the clock ticks,
tocks, two seconds.
two more seconds alone.
the compilation of pixels on a screen which
promotes entertainment
opened them up to the realities of the world
and children screamed
and choked
tear gas burned their eyes.
desensitised to violence,
they lied to them, their children...

Not perfect, but this was my stream of consciousness upon hearing the news the other morning.
Mollie Jul 2018
sometimes it feels like fire ants
crawl through my veins
masquerading as a bleeding,
pumping heart
they nibble at my nerves and
catch against my skin.
am I buried in the ground?
an indescribable weight against
my chest,
is it soil?
is it pain?
what's the difference, I am buried either way

- mollie traylor
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