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at least i'm not as sad as i used to be
here is the letter i've rewritten over and over again to the ghosts inside her head.
here's my plea for them to leave and make home in a different shoe box
in another house,
in another place,
in another closet,
in another chest
inside a drawer.
here is a selfish cry for my heart to stop aching more than it ever used to for my own patterns of pulsing demolition.
here is my saying i'm too in love.
here is a confession that i might have not lost faith in god if he gave me something to be faithful about.
here is my saying i'm too sensitive to jokes and that death is impending.
here is my begging for those damned weights to be lifted off of her collapsing lungs.
for self-indulgent reasons.
for the air she breathes that i share with her.
here is my saying i will never leave.
here is my morphed time line and shaky opinions. here is my body.
tell the ghosts to take me instead.

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