releasing & growing

poetry allows me to purge and process. its how I breathe.

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my little body, limp,embodies the sofa, whilst my hair hangs off the side,Like a sari in summer, floating,My head drooped,Mind in deep contemplation of a dark abyss,I need to be taken to the river,Be washed over by grandma,Let her love heal me enough to carry on, My organs, the food I intake, the punches I […]