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Dear You,

9/1/2014

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Dear Heartache,
This is about my pink eye,
my small feet,

and the way I smell when I wake up
wrapped in my own arms.
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Dear you,

8/17/2014

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Dear Hunger,
Nothing left in here but 
peanut butter,
bread,

and pillows.

Dear Passion,
Sorry I forgot that you existed.
I think I re-found you
when reading Emily Dickinson.


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Dear you,

8/16/2014

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Dear Patience,
There is nothing left inside me but alarm 
clocks and horror movies.


Dear Home-Ownership,
I’ve got ziplocks full of rotten passion 
decaying on the shelves of my refrigerator.


Dear Boundaries,
I dream in plastic wrap and live in a bomb shelter. 
I finally found the “off” switch on my phone.


Dear Adulthood,
I’ve grown older than the tooth fairy.
Unfortunately less fortunate in the bone and gold department.


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