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galio Feb 29
they stopped ******* working
maybe it was the alcohol
or the world falling apart around me
but they stopped

i can't remember the last time i cried
so i guess at least that part is working
galio Feb 29
it's so ******* loud in my head
and i nee dto *******
sweep the flowers
back in the vase

i know it's broken
the waters leaking
it's seeping into the cracks of the floor
just *******
gods sake
pick up the flowers
and put them back in
galio Feb 29
i feel too much
too much of whatever color
is in this month

i cant
try new things
feeling all of it
like the ******* titanic on my chest
my mood will change easily
but it'll sink into the color
to the depths

ill be ecstatic
or ******* detrimental
everything sounds great
or like a threat to my breath
i want things to fill the void
never people
because they never fill it quite well
the way tattoos feel
buying something shiny
hanging on to it
absorbing it
till it becomes my personality
until the color takes over
galio Feb 29
it feels so ******* heavy on my chest
like an anvil
its so hard to breathe
rattling chest
shaky breathes

small lungs

it feels like im ******* suffocating
im dizzy

i want to cut
i say itll bring me back
and maybe it does
but the shakiness doesnt stop
just awake and trembling

i cut myself to stay alive
i dont cut myself because i want to die
i cut myself to stay alive

but now
i think i just like it
and the way it feels
and how the scabs form
and feeling the pulse of pain
when i run my fingers over
the mending

why cant i just want to live
why doi always want to ******* die
to stop
i know i mlucky
the luckiest girl in the world
a new collection, not editing. not really a poem. idk.
galio Jan 25
he's the only thing that's ever filled me to my corners
the way apple pie and ice cream make you hot and cold inside
filling out into every crevice of your body
and keeping you home

i always thought my lungs wouldn't take it
gasps of air

i'm constantly looking for fresh air
to fill the corners
and he does it well
galio Mar 2021
I had already fallen in love
with far too many houses
when you showed up…
wearing curtains of strong roots and heavy anchors
in the small folded corners of your smile
I found a home

in the absence of a “home”
my childhood was littered with several houses
and although the rooms were packed with orange chairs
and blue kitchen tiles
the houses never filled the home
the home that I recognized
when I saw a hearth flickering in your eyes
the gentle heater hum that came from your heart
and though you showed no walls or windows
there was no deadbolt on your doors
but a roof over my head
that I held up with shaking arms
and our fingers interlocking
like perfect lock and key

I had already fallen in love  
with far too many houses
when you showed up
and I wish I had known than
that you cannot make homes out of people
home is not a house.
galio Mar 2019
he passed
and stroked
the leaves

and the whole tree shivered
like they were waiting for him
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