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My Passive Aggressive way to Tell People how to Run their Lives. Poor Fat Black Girl No More . Words and Sounds of Me. I sometimes miss when food was my happy place.
Kay, so, I have a few things I wish to say to the internet. Told you they were ugly. 2 If I ever lear.
Mdash; 11 months ago with 303 notes. Mdash; 11 months ago with 189 notes. Mdash; 11 months ago with 395 notes.
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Poetry, thoughts, ideas, ramblings. Tuesday, May 12, 2009. In the back of a book store. As a new lover might. Then faster and more furious. Not with the work or words. Or the scope of my inability. That I could buy you. In a used book store. Saturday, April 25, 2009. My submission to the Toronto Quarterly. From flesh torn to pieces. By words ripped from poems. No longer am i to.
My smile staggers and tilts. My arms forever lost and perpetual. I lie in bed and the horizon closes. Searching for what we have and. What we cannot hold onto. My hands make circles; mercy and love. A night astray with peaceful air. Only love and pain can rest.