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why is it so hard to die?
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dear chinese lantern boy and ex soulmate girl?
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Do you believe the characteristics of your zodiac sign accurately describe you?
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i was sixteen pieces of lavender and half of flea bitten feathers even before you threw me from the stars, and drowned me in grave dirt calling itself a empty handed planet.
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saying good bye is about a purging of those days that followed our heels,
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tell me; where the end of the world
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if your palms ever try to hold the ashes of trees and their words written in the forrest fires; you'd feel the edges of my knees trying so
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sometimes we chase birds made out of spiritual evidence because it's the damn closest we would ever get to being holy. we will run to the equator from the east train track if it means we can kneel at ancient stones and just b
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we wove epiphanies into the edge of the universe, and we filled our gums with dynamite in fractions of six and twelve so we could always be whole. we just kept moving, turning, dancing in the rapture of world disasters; runni
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who are you close to? what draws you towards them?
people who build friendships not on talking, but listening. on the empty silences that
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i built moire out of the remmants of menthol and the chemical the earth drops as it spins. and somehow along the way while we jumped head
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for the southpaw girl we pray to the edge
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we pray to all the wrong things.
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ephemeral-http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/ephemeral
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1. i'm afraid to grow up; not because the real world is scary, but because right now i write prose and free verse that's related to all the truth, and beauties of being a teenager and seeing beauty in breaking. when i'm not a
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my skeletons are drowning tonight in cups of salt water, and bowls
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my mom's fingers graze
the back of my neck
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i knew of this girl who made sand castles out of paper clips and grains of salt if only to prove to the world that infinite things can shatter just like everyone else. she's this girl who weaves truths in between her fingerti
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Everything dies, even seasons coated with
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when words go unspoken, falling, slowly, softly
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there are little girls
who cling to sacred
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what if summer girls are meant to slip
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in the end, the times we chased the moon and sailed paper boats down flooded quarries are what will matter- not how easily we shut everyone
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we were waiting at the window
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