So here I am again, cautious and curious, poking my head in for a look around the way I've been doing these last few months.
I want to write again.
I spend my days in art school studios and I miss the library and my left brain. I miss sticking words to everything, turning moments into poems and calling them mine.
I was in such a hurry to leave after the storm that I forgot to grab some of my favorite things. Now I'm wading through the ruins and remembering things worth coming back to.
I am grateful these days for solid ground.


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"...She’s so afraid of the world, she won’t even consider what’s outside her bedroom door.” -Me
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"Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies."
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Still Alive
Even though I don't aspire to be a poet, I wish my poetry was this awesome! gj mate!
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snv.
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::{ deidre's poetry can be found under ~zaknafein's account }::
::{ join the revolution. }::
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check out my work!! or the penguins will eat you! no seriously, they will.
i could tell you that i am a nympho, an alcoholic, a bitch, lazy, a glutton, quirky, a blasphemer, a deviant, obscene, proud fornicator, foul mouthed, a cunt, obsessive compul
oh,
and Look here
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0.0.1 Ghost "Baby Travis"
0.0.1 Montly het Butter "Kamerschoff"
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