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Jun 2020
Sloshing ripples of rainbow light and a lonely engine purring
glitter across the sidewalk, neon rain
sliced up by the clack of her heels and the singing wind
Without the hum of fluorescent lights, you'd struggle to see
the shift of her shoulders as if someone's been
pulling her up by the roots
Whistle the way you would
Stare the way you would
Hide your mewling, self-loathing cries the way you would
Exhaust yourself, run away from
your self-inflicted ache
your beet-red palms and drool-crusted lips gawking at
Skin like silk born from mud and hurricanes
and mountains that your frail porcelain arms cannot move
Sweeping the dirt over your beautiful mistake
giving her a taste for your blood and the
bubbling sound of your last gasping breath
Written by
Fae
47
 
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