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you are about to learn how your story ends
I.
I'm sitting here,
finally at home
My chest still aches
ribcage splintering outwards
like queen anne's lace opening up
like azidoazide azide in my lungs
like fireflies slowly blinking
like vinegar and baking soda rockets
Pen ink on my legs and
petals on the ground
petals at my feet
Rib cage splintered and
broken and
blooming cornflowers
II.
This second is good
I eat the chowder my mother made
and the air from the fan is cold
there is nothing bad in this second.
and what about the next,
the next,
and the next?
I will take them as they come
some seconds with warm tea
and thunderstorms
others, perhaps skinned knees
and salt-streaked faces
but the second after that will be good
the next second will make up for it.
III.
Who I am without you:
Strawberry Lemonade and Barbell Callouses
Hair curled with sweat and
my own gritted teeth
The taste of salt water and
my mom's fish chowder
driver's permit tests and
six-hour car rides
the clouds in the sky,
and the smell of nail polish
Fireworks,
balloon animals,
baseball caps.
I am still myself without you
still untied shoelaces and sidewalk chalk
still untucked sheets and open windows
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