You didn’t lead me on. My denial did.

I am hollow bones and billowing smoke, ashen curls curtaining nightmare eyes, smoke-smudged breasts to teeth marked mouth. Flesh burned with a lick.

There are days I feel more graveyard than girl; but I guess sometimes wildflowers bloom in graveyards too, right?

In an alternate universe, my body is not a shipwreck for my shame.

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