Adventura, Poetry
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I have all these questions,
but I can no longer tell the difference
between what is mine and what
has been engraved in me.

I know time does not pass
anyone by without touching them;

I feel the wear and tear of years
gone by but I never expected
to end up in shreds.

I never expected that
time could change so much;

that people could poke enough
holes in you to make you
question yourself,

that they can grab
and pull you to pieces
tiny enough to make you
even in the

So I guess my question is:

How much of me is mine to keep
after all the claws have done their best?

This entry was posted in: Adventura, Poetry


Hi, I’m Emily and I like to think of myself as a kaleidoscope, but one that ranges from a spectrum of commitment issues to emotional hoarding, all circling around varying shades of anxiety. People say I have trouble ‘staying present’ and I’ve found that daydreaming becomes significantly less acceptable in your 20’s.

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