... my other garden ;)

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I'm not a graceful person. I'm not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2AM, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don't belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn't happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don't see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.

Thursday, July 30, 2015

alchemizing (Margaret) Altwood's ...


http://irmavanta.tumblr.com/post/125349959424/red-handedjill-this-photograph-is-my-proof


 ... as i was sayin ' ...

Good for you Mr. Michals :-)
For I am the doomed one.
While you got your proof.
I have none.
All my stories, and they are too many
they only exist in my world.
I have a memory that's kept only in my head
and in my heart lives one love unrequitted.

'couldn't even say my name
when he told a friend
"fuck you!  who are you talking about!"
or something like that.

to him, i did not ever exist.
and all those times while we fuck
i was thinking he truly cared about me or us, may be
jusz may be.

So cheers to you Mr. Michals
when you get to heaven to meet God
you have a photograph to show.

I am left with Miss Altwood's, could be a blessing or a curse.
"I imagine him imagining me. This is my salvation."
(I still do.)

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