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ᵃ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷʳᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵉ
𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘤 𝘵𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘰𝘪 🥀
𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴
forgive yourself for all that you did not become yet.
ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱⁿᵉ ᵇᵉᵗʷᵉᵉⁿ ᵈᵉˢⁱʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵘᵗʸ
ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉᵃᵛᵉⁿ
ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ˢᵗᵃʸˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ
ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐⁱⁿᵍ
𝘢𝘯 𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦
graves grow no green that you can use.
gwendolyn brooks
I read the words you spilled with your ink.
The kalam wasn’t yours, you felt your words were stolen
from generations of speakers and coherent concepts that
you have been reading since your father first gave you his mother’s death book.
You never took my breaths away,
I let your imagery sink in my skin
like a child entering adolescence,
I felt incomplete.
You complied them for her-
enchanting, like waters falling from a height in a river,
You distinguished and tied her together
as I sat reading. She was such a goddess-
You were in her feet, you merely described her arms
and if I were to offer you mine-
Ink spilled just like yours- you wouldn’t come.
You believed in one of a kind
And we shared dispositions.
- @akratiisalive
francis abernathy, probably, at some point