It seeps, the silence
Deep into the cracks
I try to cover with glittery nail polish
But they just end up chipped like my ego
After a conversation
With anyone but you
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See AllI’m a kid. Maybe seven. Or nine. Who can tell. We’re at Christmas mass, my family and I. I’m in a nice dress, but it's itchy. Why are...
The smell of paint, the sticky sucking sound of wet paint rolled onto walls. This was a clean start, an adult room. Light and airy and...
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