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This place is an engine for remembering,
I'm sure I sat here when I felt this fear
curdle every ounce of fluid in me for
the first time,
When I was so sure that there was nothing
more meaningful to be than someone
to suffer alongside her friends,
When I was so concerned with meaning something,
To *mean* something,
To make that fucking boy love me because
only then could I quantify the worth contained
in this body,
This mass of cells connected into more parts always
increasing in size,
More magnitude built into delicate vessels
carrying blood over bones,
shepherding hemoglobin from lung to
body to heart to lung,
Because that goddamn fucking boy could
really make something that was already so
calculated, made already for a specific purpose,
to respire, to move, to continue,
he could surely make me matter more than
what matter I already had moving though
my smallest places,
I don't know that I'd tell her if I could go back,
Doubt that she would be impressed with
these new fears,
Will I have to reach deep into someone else's lungs today?
Will this body I didn't value before hold it's own when I can't pay for these drugs anymore?
How many mouths, hearts, soles, bones will I be responsible for?
How much can I allow myself to know that none of this matters before I endanger anyone else's future at the expense of my own sanity?
No, she wouldn't think much of me now, someone
so busy trying not to matter so much at all anymore.

23 Oct 16

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