I love you like a dog.
You promise me bones and walks to the park
I obey chasing you
Knawing on the bone whining
I’ve been whining for weeks
I went from eating out of your hand
To sloppily licking the scraps of your floor
You put the collar around my bone shoulders
But we do not go to the dog park
At the end of the day
I’m your dog. I don’t run away.
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if u ever loved me no u didnt and if u still dont call me thats the proof
idk i just feel bad today
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Marina Tsvetaeva, from "Homesickness", Selected Poems (trans. Elaine Feinstein, with Angela Livingstone) [ID'd]
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— Hope is Lonely, Kim Seung Hee (tr. Brother Anthony)
[text ID: hope and I, / hope is a life sentence, / hope is lonely.]
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In my dream I apologize to everyone I meet. Instead of introducing myself, I apologize for not knowing why I am alive. I am sorry. I am sorry. I apologize. In real life, oddly enough, when I am fully awake and out and about, if I catch someone’s eye, I quickly look away. Perhaps this too is a form of apology. Perhaps this is the form apologies take in real life. In real life the looking away is the apology, despite the fact that when I look away I almost always feel guilty; I do not feel as if I have apologized. Instead I feel as if I have created a reason to apologize, I feel the guilt of having ignored that thing—the encounter. I could have nodded, I could have smiled without showing my teeth. In some small way I could have wordlessly said, I see you seeing me and I apologize for not knowing why I am alive. I am sorry. I am sorry. I apologize. Afterwards, after I have looked away, I never feel as if I can say, Look, look at me again so that I can see you, so that I can acknowledge that I have seen you, so that I can see you and apologize.
Claudia Rankine, Don’t Let Me Be Lonely: An American Lyric
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And in just a blink of an eye, you were ripped away from me. 😭💔 Oh how I miss you.
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An ordinary hand — just lonely
for something to touch
that touches back.
Anne Sexton, The Touch
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