| i am from your desert heart, the one you turned away from in the rigid fear that you might touch the lightning of your soul and burn away the pain and past, the curses that you cling to in your moments when despair is never deep enough to stem your flow. i am from the light that you denied every time you took a razor blade to flesh and told me that it�s good to feel release pour from your arm and thigh, that it�s good to hate the source that spilled you on this aching earth. i am from the voices of the bones you placed beneath my bed because the dark had crippled you and you could not say the words �i love you�. |
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| image: william herbert draper |