Creative
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Creative

Remember running from the top of the hill telling stories about skeletons in the forest, Years later you buried yours there and I never knew   All I had was a pencil sharpener shaped like a house and a spelling bee trophy that didn’t belong to me What did I do to...

It's not so much the full bottles  As it is the empty glass.  A broken promise  Stale and sticky on the crooked coffee table.  I’ll never drink whiskey again.    It’s not so much the noxious assault in the doorway  As it is the broken flag on the mailbox.   Even when empty,  I pushed...

an apple is the doorstop. in lieu of a working lock it is an invitation, a trail of pawprints from stoop to kitchen to hallway and back again   does it count as smoking inside? if we pour our lungs to the front porch and the smoke trails slither between the chipped green paint, green skin to...

When water melts would it smell like wax   Unlikely: Butter. The oil that won’t come off   I do not see the birds, only their feet, and even then, only the ones missing talons   I’ve been pulling my hair out since I was little, letting it fall from my...