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 Also it's funny to go through a little bit of a memory lane with past entries...jesus christ I was sad about that boring ex-boyfriend of mine. 
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ha.
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 I've had this account for over a little over ten years. How bizzare. I remember who was important to me and in my life when I began this journal and it's so important for me to think about them as a new year approaches. I will always miss the ones I've lost, especially as the end of November is nearing, as does the anniversary of my father's death. I wonder if I traveled back through the years in this journal if I had written anything positive about him. I'm not sure he ever did give me anything nice to say about him. I'll still remember him. And probably get drunk and cry over him and the things he may have been if he hadn't been sick and sick with rage and illness and anger torwards torwards his children, and resentment because he was never able to connect to us and I wonder if that killed him too. I remember the turkey he left in our freezer because he wanted to have Thanksgiving with us but we didn't want him to because he only made holdays miserable and sad since we were kids. I remember how awful it was to take that turkey out of the freezer after he'd died and we needed to move.
Maybe this full moon will bring me clarity and peace and the ability to let go of that Thanksgiving four years ago. 
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 first date tonight.
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he is a creature
crouching closer
eyes beady and a black pit
where his mouth should be

instead of skin, slick 
with wet metallic scales
his breath breeds beetles
crawling up my thigh

claws for fingers he
uses his pincers
and leaves me
bloody on the bed

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i'm going to stop being pathetic and just get over her.
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It's a stupid situation now
Where everything goes wrong
If you can't tell if I am lying
Then you do not belong

In my bed
Go rest your head
Upon the bones of a bigger man
He can cover you with rock wool
And you can close up like a clam


I wouldn't want you to want
To be wanted by me
I wouldn't want you to worry
You'd be drowned within my sea
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i'll pretend i have small pox
a beautiful girl
dying in the eighteenth century

or afflicted with lepprosy
face so wrapped in bandages
you won't recognize me at all

but it's the black plague
instead
striking from inside

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it's difficult to close my mouth around my food and make myself chew.
i wrote poems today at work, trying to pass the time between the poses.


"nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility: whose texture compels me with the color of its countries, rendering death and forever with each breathing" ee cummings 
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i made shrimp scampi,
and kissed him
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i am so so stressed out.
found a car, thought i was fine, but then it fell through.
if i can't find a car, i have no way of getting to college this month.
if my father keeps avoiding me and ditching our drivers lessons, i'll fail my test.
i'm so overwhelmed. sometimes it really hurts he doesn't love me enough to do things fathers are expected to do. it only bothers me when i have to depend on my friends parents to teach me how to drive. it's embarrassing. i'm sick of being embarrassed over how little he cares.
after this is done, i won't need anything else from him.
why can't he just do this one thing?
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