a walk across the park

i found something out
my tracing paper is what they call a lonely child
with poems bleeding from her arms, a walk across the park
i’ve written every bite of love i’ve taken from anyone
and no one wrote about me
i slipped on the tears they sketched of themselves
every possible heartbeat away from my cruelness,
no one wrote about me
a turn-around side-ways glance, i tempt fury in people too tried to grieve me
make sure not to waste the paper or time

i shed my skin hundreds of times a year but my skin sticks to the walls
i remember everything at once in a moment

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