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A Bitch to Write

Not knowing why you love them is why it is hard to let go 

He has droopy eyes with a sharp nose and arms thick from everything else he lacks
that even without realizing, he carries my past, future, and present.
He carries my ancestors and unborn children,
a thin rope around his arms carrying everything of mine yet he knows it not.

It is frustrating, daunting, infuriating.
I can’t write about him but I want to.
I want to rid myself of his voice that forever rings in my head
I want to rid myself of him entirely
there is no comprehension
No understanding
why I am hungry for his lips,
why I imagine rubbing my nose against his
no comprehension why, when sitting in groups, my body turns towards him, worshiping.
It drives me insane that there is no reason I can find for why his name circulates through my body faster than my blood.
Why is it that even after knowing about his ways I still find him whole?
Why is it that even if he lights my sister, brother on fire I’ll still find his name after I slice the first layer of my skin?

What I do know is that It’s not lust just as much it’s not love
but that is all I know.

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