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Category: Writing and Poetry

The intimacy of being understood.

The Intimacy of being understood 


Buried in a garden, the soil dark and harsh as the bitter sun bites me to dust.



And so, I will forever linger for a new place to rest 


To call home In places I should have never stopped 


Leaving bits of vulnerability, a bit of me


But Time was a very funny thing


Nothing seemed to change but then suddenly everything was different 


I wanted to scream so bright even sun flowers turned away 


Now No matter how I word it, not even the flowers will understand how it felt


To be loved and betrayed in the same moments by the same touch.


-how to digress from a garden to a single flower 


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