Ficly

Lack of providence (Part I)

She doesn’t write poetry about taking the eleven
to the community college instead of the seven
(just because there’s this girl who cuts her own bangs
and has a swirly tattoo on the nape of her neck)
or how the boy is so close he’s out of focus
(he doesn’t listen when she says, “step back, baby”)
or how once she held a match to me
and a thousand words were burned
(and I realized she grew up without grace)
she just writes about how she’s ugly
as a repented sin.

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