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she would write words upon her hand on a whim, words like *burn, drown, essence, crescent, jingle, irony, scheme,* and i did not understand why. when she would get frustrated, and that line would come between her brow, she would begin to touch her face, as she always did and the ink would smudge and smear and color her cheeks, eyes, nose, a dark, deep, blue and i still did not understand why, until one time i asked her, "why do you write on yourself?" and she replied, pen in hand, "i wish to be a poem."
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Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 12:04 AM UTC
"i wish to be a poem."
she would write words upon her hand on a whim, words like *burn, drown, essence, crescent, jingle, irony, scheme,* and i did not understand why. when she would get frustrated, and that line would come between her brow, she would begin to touch her face, as she always did and the ink would smudge and smear and color her cheeks, eyes, nose, a dark, deep, blue and i still did not understand why, until one time i asked her, "why do you write on yourself?" and she replied, pen in hand, "i wish to be a poem."
-w.d.
willow-tree
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Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 12:04 AM UTC
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