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Sydney Ann Apr 2018
Two lines converged but
Before our strides lined up as we entered
I had made up my mind
Before our entrance
And he had made up his mind too
Though in this matter
He had no right

Were I a selfish woman
Or a woman at all
It would not have mattered how little unselfish kindness he was made of
For I would not have given way to his want
I would have known the value of the secret garden I possessed within
Of no value to anyone but myself
But of value to me like a splash of paint to a yet uncolored canvass

However I was not a woman
I was without firm identity
I was, most importantly, selfless.
And when a selfish wish
Is paired with a selfless heart
A black hole is formed
Which rips the self of one
Invisibly away.
And so when he asked
Though he had no right
I gave over my self
Which is to say autonomy
To the black hole
And as a woman now, I am incomplete
Sydney Ann Jul 2017
It reminds me of a deep breath in space
When you touch me
I become a fish, dancing on the shore
Rhythmically lapped by water
But never enough
Sydney Ann Feb 2017
I am irate
I hate my flaking space
My creaking personal facade is fake
I am meeting my brown and crumbling fate
I am rust, a lust for solid iron personalities I cannot satiate.
Sydney Ann Jan 2017
I am beat up
By the tides of course,
But my heart does not feel the watery weight of feeling.
I fear this ocean wrings me dry
Despite the tides of emotion
They lap at my skin
I'll just drink a tea
Sweeten it with warm memories
I'll let the waves wring me dry
Sydney Ann Jan 2017
That stress does not control my lips
Or my change my mind
It only breaks down walls
And it's the truth I didn't want to show
That rushes out
Sydney Ann Jan 2017
Maybe you're ****** jazzed when you find it,
maybe it grows on you,
maybe you wear it out but it makes you feel things,
and you go back to it when you need comforting.
The best music is the song you've worn out with love over the years,
the old favorite,
the one you appreciate
not for newness but for familiarity
and wonder
Sydney Ann Jan 2017
One day we will all be gone
The only whispers that fill the halls
Will be the wind
And several cockroaches
The walls will remember us
But to the air and bugs
We have never existed
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