my companion piece for this poem
Today, I'm peaceful about most of it; the books that sit untouched on the shelf, the words we still need to read (and write). The time I don't know how to save, all the money they are keeping from me, all the things I made (and lost). The time, all that time, the time spent thinking about that time the way they treated my mother. The way he (still) will not leave me alone. The way the 'he's' might never leave us alone. (I can't kiss my lover. Still. Unless I want an audience or a fight). Those times. All those times. The times spent thinking about those times. How my friend will never see her beauty and what must have been taken from her to cause this. Today, I stay pretty peaceful but it doesnt mean I accept this.
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