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#tonyaharding
”yet the fervent flame that fuels her will flatten her to bodilessness” — bodiless by Christina Weiler her blades like shiny silver roots             dug into cold white soil shaped thighs and calves ankles forged from steel firm and strong             s    t    r    o    n    g know their frictionless home             better than the restrictive                         ground for mortals she learned to             skate                         before she could crawl the chill that             penetrates her does not freeze– it             charges her body                         fizzles in her blood fills her lungs with             red hot molten                         fury each powerful             gut-wrenching             scratch                         scrape             sharp            edge carves             echoing prayers into the heart of her             unforgiving god ordered             by a world that doesn't             understand where she came from                         (whether heaven or hell no one really knows or cares) to shatter             the ice dreams that saved (or cursed) her to obey             the ground to pretend that she will find that thrill—             find herself— in             something else but through the aches she knows she will never forget
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Feb 14, 2019
Feb 14, 2019 at 1:03 AM UTC
I, Tonya
”yet the fervent flame that fuels her will flatten her to bodilessness” — bodiless by Christina Weiler her blades like shiny silver roots             dug into cold white soil shaped thighs and calves ankles forged from steel firm and strong             s    t    r    o    n    g know their frictionless home             better than the restrictive                         ground for mortals she learned to             skate                         before she could crawl the chill that             penetrates her does not freeze– it             charges her body                         fizzles in her blood fills her lungs with             red hot molten                         fury each powerful             gut-wrenching             scratch                         scrape             sharp            edge carves             echoing prayers into the heart of her             unforgiving god ordered             by a world that doesn't             understand where she came from                         (whether heaven or hell no one really knows or cares) to shatter             the ice dreams that saved (or cursed) her to obey             the ground to pretend that she will find that thrill—             find herself— in             something else but through the aches she knows she will never forget
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