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If you surrendered to the air, you could ride it.

[throw yourself into the wind, throw yourself into the wind]

I am atoms, molecules, cells

A mismatched pair of socks
One green, one blue
I am frilly, floral dresses, sitting in the sand.
I am—I am—What am I?

I am everything, nothing.
Somewhere in between.
I am Outside, Over There,
The Velveteen Rabbit,
And The Potty Book.

I am handmade, hand sewn.

A disproportionate doll
Blue thread crisscrossing on the corners of my eyes
Shaky hand of a sick-fifth grader
Sequin eyes
Penned on mouth
IV still attached
(thin sharp silversteel pouring purple into my veins)

I shake.


I'm just a girl. I have another livejournal, somewhere. Don't worry, if you happened to have read that snippet above somewhere else. That is my poem.

Sometimes I need to escape a little, put thoughts out out into the open, but somewhere where they won't be read by anyone whom they're about. Hopefully, I'll really go on this baby. Maybe I'll blog, or write poetry, or just write. In an ideal world, I will be a huge part of bandom, but I need to figure some more of that shit out first.

So add me, yeah? And I'll add you back. It'll be pretty awesome. I dunno. Maybe someday you;ll get something that means a little bit more about me. If not, you'll just have to stick to reading my posts.