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maybe

maybe we are supposed to meet the wrong people

maybe we’re not meant to be

maybe we are satelites

maybe we are the lucky ones

maybe we’re friends maybe we’re more

maybe we are all cabinets of wonders

maybe we are meant to meet the wrong people

maybe we’re each others soulmates

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What you don’t know.

I don’t have nicknames yet people still try to make it a thing. I have books on my shelf begging to be read yet I still find myself buying more. I doodle often and somehow they all end up looking like I tried to copy a five year old’s finger painting. And failed. When I can’t sleep at night, I go over the following day’s schedule again and again, trying to smooth out wrinkles in my plans. I try to save greeting cards and and letters but I always end up losing them. Actually, I lose a lot of things. When I go into a place with people I know, the grandiosity of my entrance will depend on my energy levels. I don’t look at myself in the mirror that often, but I feel like it is too much. Not because it is a vain or self-absorbed thing to do, but because I feel so much more confident when I’m not constantly reminded of the flaws in my physical appearance. A guilty pleasure I enjoy way too much to give up is internet (not that I have a lot of it, my mobile data is close to non-existent and I have no wifi at home). I read the newspaper almost everyday, skipping most of it but getting really absorbed in articles about things like feminism, LGBTQ+ rights, racism and current politics. The sports section is something that is never even browsed through. I’d like to be less stubborn but that will probably never change. Let’s just pretend it’s a good quality for now.The scariest insect I’ve encountered is a crane fly. Why do you need that many legs? I’m mostly likely to engage confrontation. If I’m upset about something I won’t let it sit, I’d much rather talk about it than pretend it doesn’t bother me. I’m s creature of habit. The last time I pushed my physical limits was so long ago I can’t remember. I have a lot of acquaintances and few very close friends. I think about death a lot, not in a morbid way – more philosophically. It amazes me that turtles have yet to run for presidency yet Donald Trump is a serious candidate. I would prefer someone be straight up with me then to temper their words. I respect propel who are outspoken with their beliefs, as long as they don’t force it upon others. My perfect study arrangement is alone in my room. I sleep on my side. My favourite city is San Juan in Puerto Rico, however, I think many flaws would come to light if I lived there 24/7. Much like anywhere else. Ignorance is not bliss. I don’t think anything is unforgivable but I find it difficult to forgive. It’s even harder to forgive myself for past personal failures. I’m sure I have any convictions I’d be willing to die for. I think it’s extremely important to be honest with yourself. I am a messy person, both literally and figuratively. 

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art

“Art is to console those

who are broken by life”
but what of the unfortunate few

who are broken by death
 should they be left

to wallow in sadness and grief
or bundled up firmly

in the warmth of love
because the moss 

on his lovers grave 
shows the rain that pitter

pattered on the stone
and because both hands 

were used to wipe away tears
none were left to bring

the shelter of an umbrella

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Time to Grow

Girls in England 

Have long hair.

Hair that’s flat 

And sits neatly

On their shoulders.

My hair is short

And black, 

And sticks up in

The morning

Like moody fur.

The girls in my class 

Speak to me, finally

And ask about my hair – 

Why it’s short.

“Is it because you’re a lesbian?”

She wants to know.

It’s true that 

Some boys have 

Longer hair than me.

                    – the weight of water, Sarah Crossman

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