poems

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4y
papercuts - For the anon who requested it… Sorry it’s not...
papercuts
I wish I wrote the way I thought; obsessively, incessantly, with maddening hunger. I’d write to the point of suffocation. I’d write myself into nervous breakdowns. Manuscripts spiralling out like tentacles into abysmal nothing. And I’d write about you a lot more than I should.
teaching literacy.
Charles Bukowski, “Wandering in the Cage”
Had a cry with my mum last light about everything that's been going on lately and it made it a little better. It still hurts but a little less 03/10/2017
Tell me, father, which to ask forgiveness for: what I am, or what I'm not? Tell me, mother, which should I regret: what I became, or what I didn't?
i will not repent your mistakes for you, mother.