Rage sleeps in a hospital bed, bleach dried and exhausted. Let me talk you softly, rationally. 1. God may be forgiving, my mother is not. So, am afraid of being saved . So I don't jump out of the burning window : rather let the fire to come. You can't call this love, for this is not. 2. I tried to dig a grave for myself and my father laughed at my me: The proportions are not correct, he said, stupid girl. 3. In the chronological order, I am a broken tooth, nagging finger of sorrow, angry daughter, low maintenance car, an unruled fate.
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Showing posts from November, 2024