An Abhorrence of Dishevelment

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An Abhorrence of Dishevelment

with feet dug halfway in the

mud,

i proclaimed a love.

dirt and water pooled together,

an oddness of contrasts.

in the street

was where i found you.

found the peace

in whispered words.

eyes like bone

an a heart of liquid iron,

the idea of dishevelment was another

abhorrence

on a shopping list you carried.

the light was beautiful

on sharp shoulder blades

as you retreated from the idea

of

us.

The Breakup Series: You Were the Rain

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You were the rain.
I’m so, so sorry you were the rain.
Drops on your cheeks wet the pages
of your favorite books,
and my arms.
You weren’t supposed to be someone
I would love.
But you smelled like cigarettes
and you tasted like ash, you…
you tasted…
hopeless.
I had hoped the rain would clean you,
but instead it would absorb you.
until finally I could see that when
it rained
you did, too.
So I tried to take it back, to show you
that rain could be destructive
when it was beautiful.
But by then you had learnt to love
the beauty in the destruction that you
left in your wake.

The Breakup Series: Dramatics

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the act of

sliding down a wall,

letting the heartbreak

finally drag you down,

is not entirely foreign to me.

there is strength,

though,

in the thought

that I am not the only girl

that you ever forced

to such

dramatics.

That Girl Hanging from the Moon

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she sat with the moon for

dinner.

and brewed tea in the morning,

with the sun’s rays.

collections of starlight,

captured in glass bottles,

lined her study and

intricate botanical prints

adorned her walls.

flowers in her hair

and cherry stained lips

made her the least practical

but most magical

dream I had ever

had the pleasure

of pushing on a swing

that hung from the moon.