VI

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For the girl who loved him, and hated me for loving him.

His footsteps are earthquakes ringing in my ears,
And adrenaline runs higher and higher with every step.
There is a rush that comes with freedom, with anti-gravity,
One that only I can know.

And you, half-blind, scrawl curses into my name,
Wishing for something you cannot have,
For the thing I refuse to let go of,
Not to posess but to protect.

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Möbius Trip

Written on a bus on the way home, 3rd November.

1. It’s 8pm. I’ve been out since 3pm and so far I’ve sung my lungs out and stuffed my face with more Korean Barbecue than I ever thought I would ever consume in my lifetime.

2. You weren’t supposed to see me today, I think parting would’ve hurt less if you didn’t call me. But you wanted to be here on my birthday, even if it were only for a moment.

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The End of The World

​Sometimes, I take a bus to nowhere in particular, watching it turn, maneuvering around tight bends, gentle nudging of caution sweeping the ashen roads. The city never changes, the buildings keep on building, not even the seasons, not even the people, not even a single voice cries out into the void.

“Donald Trump won.” He said. And the people, the trees, the buildings still building, raise their heads to the sky and laughed. And wept. And mourned. And laughed.

In times like these, everyone must stick together. Do not allow Trump to destroy the fight you have been fighting yout whole lives. Live out of spite. Thrive. And never give up hope.

How To Love Your Broken

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Do not let him tell you he’s weak. And when he does, tell him he’s wrong. Don’t let him believe the lies they’ve fed him, love all of the “girly” that sits in his body. Ask him if he would like to tell you how he feels and don’t pry.

Don’t be fooled into thinking you can fix him. You can’t love away abuse, no matter how much you want to. When he asks give him your heart, do it, and tell him to hold it close on shaking nights, the hours where you can’t reach him. Don’t let him believe that you are the answer, because he’d be spectacularly mistaken. Direct him, instead, to a mirror, and ask him to search for the answers there.

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Note to Self

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Inspired by “Notebook Fragments” by Ocean Vuong

Older boys will kill you, mother said. I believed her.

Today I met an older boy. I’m terrified of the man I love, even though he’s the only one who believes me.

Close the door, daddy said. Turn off the lights, daddy said. You’re wasting electricity, daddy said. You’re wasting money, wasting water, wasting space, daddy said.

Listen to your dad, mommy said. You know you’re his jewel, his princess, right? Mommy said.

Note to self: The people who are killing you are also caring for you.

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This Is Why I Need You

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When He Left

Because you are the sky’s first song
Because you are what poured from my wounds like raindrops
Because you are what my lacrimal glands want back
Because you are all the things I hated
Because you are all the things I loved
Because you are the reason why I’m not breathing right
Because you are the reason why I’m not sleeping right
Because you are why I’m drowning
Because you are a puddle
Because you didn’t love me back
Because you never stayed long enough to love me back
Because you broke me
Because you didn’t need me
Because you are happy.

Because I don’t need you.
Because I am happy.