Beautifully broken

I am beautifully flawed, beautifully broken, beautifully real

I am beautifully flawed, perfectly imperfect,

Beautifully imperfect

Beautifully human,

Beautifully real,

Beautifully needy

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I belong

I want to belong

I want to belong

And I resist as if belonging will kill me, subsume me, fold me into a cavern of oblivion, of no-thing-ness, of no air, no breathing.

It frightens me.

I cannot trust… but I want to, because I want to belong.

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A different kind of silence

‘Yes, we were very close. We spoke often, and easily. I love him. It was sudden – we think a heart attack.’

Suddenly a silent weight drops down a deep, long, vertical tunnel with no apparent sides. It takes its time until it hits the floor of the echo chamber and an ageless pain radiates outward in concentric circles. Other times an old man’s boot thrashes against the inside of my cavernous chest, bruising the ribs and sending a heat, with sound, that carries on traveling, as if forever, back to a place in the future where an old man sits and remembers he has been waiting a long time for it to arrive.

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