the girl with no country

the only thing that matters is the understanding that everyone matters.

*

but i, being poor, have only my dreams; i have spread my dreams under your feet; tread softly because you tread on my dreams. - w. b. yeats

*

if i write for you, do you think you could read it? savor the words carefully chosen just for your eyes, your ears. for i am personal and i am illegible, in all manners and parts i am how you choose to see me.
These might be dandy
I follow these kids

I can’t explain,

make excuses

for the way I love that

silver sliver

slithering

around your lip, 

a tiny rebellion

your tongue feels its thin metallic edge

you taste my name

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