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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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![]() [Content warning: gun violence] it's a dying texan midnight i squint & my grandmother glows asleep in the corner my mother becomes herself a little less lawyer woman man financial child bearer for seven hours. the best part though is the moon
gnawing on a section of your vanilla-brown thigh in undisturbed submission you allow it while life is gasping out of your nose heavy & forceful like this is your only fight others unknown to you though we both sway the hips of four-limbed bodies you don’t know how we must birth unrelentless how our country spays our minds by slipping leashes on our bellies how it finds the softest of our asking sounds dangerous while the sharp crack of a gun remains tame the BANG against our living children the docile fear in the wombs of classroom chairs how the streets & courtrooms drool into us rabidly caressing the chains on our rights & harnessing our mouths how i feel so trapped vulnerable in the too-public day & always viciously safe in the night thinking it would be nice to curl up into my own fur & let the world rest on me like your head buried under all those blankets Comments are closed.
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Unless otherwise noted, all pictures used are open-source images in the public domain. Archives
September 2023
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