Orange Blossoms

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Is it possible to hate someone who isn’t even a part of your life? 

Have you ever had something, seemingly insignificant, happen to you, only to discover years and years later - too many years- that it wasn’t insignificant at all? In fact, maybe it changed you in an irreparable way?

It feels like that.

I feel like that.

On bad days.

I want to wear a beautiful evening gown and stare out into the Pacific. 

I want to tell all the positive-”life is so good”-fair-weather friends to go fuck themselves.

I want more time. 

More time.

It’s rambling to so many, and perfect sense to little few.

I say I am taking it one nap at a time. So, false because it has nothing to do with the bad part of my life with them and everything to do with a map inside my head that leads across the earth and back again. Back again. Always leading straight back to them and a little yellow house.

They allow me to find joy in a time when everything else is a pillow over my screaming head.

I remember a time when Hamlet made perfect sense. Now, I can’t find the passage. I read over and over again. Nothing is there. No line belongs to me. 

I am public because I CAN. It’s the only thing that can’t be changed. I don’t expect many to understand. But if you do, Thank you.

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