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03.08.09 / 11:01 pm
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in the attic, empty save for boxes, the articles of others' lives, i am allowed space to regain self. in that darkness, i am bright as the sun.in the night, i sleep on these memories, beneath a musty wedding dress, next to an armoire; i imagine myself as another dull, discolored shape, embarrassed at how little effort this takes. my nails and hair grow long, and i no longer remember how i looked before; i am without knowledge of myself beyond the most basic of animal desires. i do not want, and thus am free.
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