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#complicatedlove
I grieve you living, mourn you whole, the you I knew already gone before you go. This is how the dead stay warm. This is how I learn to hold a hand that doesn't know it's already ash. and me, I am standing in the hallway between the two of you, becoming architecture nobody planned to live in. he bleeds. I translate. I take your blindness and his weight and make it into something anyone can carry but me. to know is to lose what knowing finds. to love is to stand where love unwinds. this is the thing about being the one in the middle: you become very good at holding and very unknown. the light still comes through the window the same way it did before. and I am still here to see it. that is the thing about people like me we are built from a love too stubborn to put down. and something that loves like that doesn't disappear. it just learns the shape of the new room and calls it home.
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May 22
May 22, 2026 at 10:16 PM UTC
The Middle
A broken mother loves from a distance She keeps you at arm's length to prevent her from suffocating you She can't stand your sadness but will do nothing to restore your happiness She stays up all night wondering If you inherited her illness If by chance you were destined to walk through the same path Do not mistake her for a bad mom Loss is the only language she understands A broken mother will never hide her feelings from you She will serve you a plate of her deepest scars on her anniversaries Just like the generous cook she is She will tell you stories behind the recipe over dessert She can't stand to see your heart broken But she will do nothing to make you feel better Do not mistake her for a bad mom Heartbreak is the only language she understands A broken mother will never believe in your dreams She will make it her duty to remind you of your past failures Hell will break loose if you ever talk about your nightmares She can't stand your wounds But she will do nothing to make them heal Do not mistake her for a bad mom Abuse is the only language she understands
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Apr 22, 2018
Apr 22, 2018 at 5:55 PM UTC
Tales of a Broken Mother
Night Eyes are bright The mind is open, awake, thinking Thinking of words unspoken Thoughts flow in and out of my mind Your embrace, my body aches to feel your warm embrace Your hands, rough as it may feel my hands long for your hands Hold me, mold me... These are the thoughts that flow in and out of my mind Now I fall into a sleep like trance Floating around as we dance This may be our first and last goodbye But how will we know when all of these are just up in my mind Night Eyes are bright The mind is thinking of words unspoken
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Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 10:48 AM UTC
Late Night Thoughts
I want to, but I don't know how. Always thinking next, never doing now. You're a mystery and an enigma all in one, Things would be simpler had we not such fun. Anticipation has me over-thinking, Over-analyzing, forever sinking. Over and over I've weighed this through, Be silent or finally act, what will I do? Will this time I divulge my thought? Or yet again my words be caught? Yearning to find out if there may be something more, But hold back so you won't shut the door. As friends we've really had a blast, Worried if I open my mouth it won't last. Times about up for there to be a "we", I suppose now its all up to me. Searching for the answer, what shall I see? Time to find out how this should be.
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Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 6:04 PM UTC
I want to, but I don't know how