one night you screamed at me until I had a panic attack and kept screaming
̶I̶ ̶b̶r̶o̶k̶e̶ ̶u̶p̶ ̶w̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶,̶ ̶c̶a̶l̶l̶e̶d̶ ̶m̶y̶ ̶b̶e̶s̶t̶ ̶f̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶s̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶c̶a̶t̶c̶h̶ ̶m̶e̶ ̶w̶h̶i̶l̶e̶ ̶I̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶s̶t̶i̶l̶l̶ ̶r̶e̶e̶l̶i̶n̶g̶
it felt out of nowhere, the tidal shift in you. you apologized. I forgave you.
̶i̶t̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶a̶ ̶b̶i̶l̶l̶o̶w̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶r̶e̶d̶ ̶f̶l̶a̶g̶ ̶t̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶I̶ ̶i̶m̶m̶e̶d̶i̶a̶t̶e̶l̶y̶ ̶u̶s̶e̶d̶ ̶a̶s̶ ̶a̶ ̶p̶a̶r̶a̶c̶h̶u̶t̶e̶ ̶ ̶
then I began to lose myself, body moving, mind sleep-walk dreaming
About the Creator
R.C. Taylor
I write to invoke, to process, to honor, to resurrect, and—sometimes—to grieve but, above all, I write to be free.
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