i will not write today

i think
i have given
enough of my
unwanted self
for a
hundred
lifetimes
and today
i feel shallow
wrung dry
a thousand
hornets
stinging along
my vacant tender
craving beauty
to fill the cracks
in my
ugly
hanging towels
over mirrors
huddled in a ball
in the dark
rocking
back and forth
your name
honey
holding back
the bile
of being so
tired of needing
more than this
world ever offers.

today
i will not
spill myself
in inky disasters
today
i do not
exist.

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