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I swear that it’s mine

You can tell by 

how I spit it out with slime

Like something gestated

In my borrowed womb

A cancerous wound

At the back of my throat


Thick, slick, and sickly

A brine breathing

Making me choke

It’s too close

It’s too far away

Far too far




I swear it’s mine

I write it down all the time

It’s been burned like a brand

On the back of my hand

Laced in my waist

A gurgling paste

Chaste and abandoned

A thin severed strand

Hold on

It’s my mine 

I claim


Used to be mine


And mine alone.

Something I owned

Did I discard it

Or was it stolen

I wish I had known

Or could have known

But no

Swallow shallow breaths

Brave past the past tense

Turn tired

Strung thin

This is it

The world

you’re living in



Demands conformity

Or visible breaks

Visible cracks

Whenever I’m asked

What is mine

And who am I

I have no answer

Solid enough to give

It’s a writhing thing

Hard to pin down

And like me

Definitely alive

I hope

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