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“Some days I wake up…” by Olivia Kunaski

Some days I wake up
with my heart bolted to the floor
& it’s not worth the trouble
of picking it up again.
Some days I wake up
& it’s trying to beat its way out of my chest.
Or I can’t hear it at all.

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Breathing in my Black Body in Birmingham, Alabama

Breathing in my Black Body in Birmingham, Alabama

(Picture courtesy of Salaam Green)

I am not confident, or an inspiration, or even brave simply because I have lost some weight. I get dressed in the dark and go to work with wrinkles in my clothes most days. In my previous home I decorated the whole living room with mirrors, mirrors over the fireplace, sofa, and such; however, in my small apartment, I haven’t looked in a mirror in months. I hate taking pictures even today and years ago I decided to not join the selfie craze because; I was too fat.

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A Walk Behind My Heart

I walked behind
my heart,
Covered up to the thighs
in its rivers,

freezing from the chill
that it became since 
life served it grief
beyond winters,

only seeing
the calm of blood that 
passed the rest of my 
body on the inside.

we learned to flow
together,
to search for ourselves
On the walls & floors 
of my flesh,
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