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no longer was
she content
walking among the
dead
however there were
none of the living
kind to be found

she didn't understand
their boring jobs
and boring spouses
and boring kids
and boring houses
and boring ***
and boring traditions

she didn't inherit
anything from the
past
she didn't owe
anything to anyone
and she didn't care
to pretend
that she cared

one might call
it hedonistic
but there's no
wrong in
walking away from
anything or anyone
in favor of
walking towards
something better

and this girl
ran as fast as
she could
and found herself
a way to breathe
life into her
existence
How much can I write,
Without saying too much.
Locked lips,
flicked ashes,
and intertwining fingers.

inhale, exhale
the deadly fumes

It's black lungs
and lovely hearts
we have consumed.
I kiss your lips
and almost feel the pain
you've felt times before.

I'd trade my heart with yours,
but it's not so sturdy anymore.
I wish I could paint
myself in gold,
giving you something
more worthy to hold.
I hope it doesn't come down to
the washing of your sheets,
trying to forget the scent of me
and sweeping up lost strands
of my hair, so there's no reminder
I was ever there.
Wandering through your mind
much like a traveler on newly found land.
Or like an astronaut roaring through
the atmosphere into the staggering cosmos.
I'm in a whirlpool of utter fascination
with you.
You stole my breath away,
kissed me, and paused to exchange a gaze
then smiled sweetly in a daze.
flowers bloomed around your face;
your eyes reflected the pure
joy spread across my face.
I need to be proud of myself-
not disappointed in myself-
for missing an opportunity
to drink too much
and pretend that
you
will still care about me
the same way
when you're sober.
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