Dear Mom,
I remember when I called you unexpectedly,
to tell you that I’d hit my lowest low,
but really, it was just a broken heart
from a trip I shouldn’t have made at all.
I remember what went through my head
each time a boy called me words
and questioned my character,
based on the choices I’d made
before him.
I remember the face of every person
who has ever managed to point out
my physical flaws:
the size of my waist, the fullness of my cheeks,
my face.
Me.
I remember that one dark room in the hostel
where, to the beats of my favourite song, I took a kick to the nose
and got blood on the floor-tiles.
“Found a new song to obsess over.”
is what I’d told you.
I remember the day you figured out
that I’d been slitting my wrists,
and when you asked why,
I lied.
I remember each time I chose
silence over catharsis
because I didn’t expect you to understand.
I don’t expect you to understand now either.
I’m sorry for wasting all your almonds
on remembering things that
I know I shouldn’t.
Wow well expressed “less but more “
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Well expressed
Said “less and more “
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This one is the best out of all your writings…”soft but bold”
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