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Waverly
Poems
Mar 2012
Love.
This is crazy,
having to re-define
everything.
What will my mother
think?
My dad already
thinks I'm crazy,
and I don't even stay there.
Sometimes I have black coffee,
and that's it for a day.
When I walk to the ABC store
on bland nights,
I pack
a pack
of Marlboros,
and I leave breadcrumbs of butts.
At night
I suckle
the lick dry,
right down to the bottom
of the breast,
until there is nothing more
it can give me.
During the day,
I work out
haphazardly,
and **** in the toilets,
like a big boy.
I have to learn how to speak again.
I've got a whole new dictionary
and it's got the same word
on
every page.
Can I be human,
with one word?
Written by
Waverly
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