your words

are printed in my poetry

I quote you

when I don’t even mean to.

I, miss, you,

and I don’t know

what

to-do

with

that.

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i suspect

my unconscious self is
afraid of everything
falling apart. somehow i started to
believe that fear was the string
needed to hold everything together.

that
that tension would
keep everything in place. if
i just worried about it enough,
everything would be just
fine & dandy.

i didn’t know that fear needed me to survive,
not the other way around.

i didn’t know that i need change
like i need air.