the hard children

the world is a hard place so we raise children with fire and brimstone with grit We harden them to the embodied parts of themselves. prize reason, and rationale over feeling and being the world is a hard place so we raise hard children and so the cycle of the hard world continues perhaps we…

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-the unsent letter

I hate when you say you love me or miss me I gave up on you after the countless times you pushed away my outstretched hands I cried away my love when you told me I was ugly when I sat in the scorching water of the bathtub hoping to burn away my skin shrink…

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