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On My 41st Birthday

I am tired
Of
A body
That don't give a shit
Literally
If I got things to do.
And this brain that
Sometimes
Sometimes
Makes beauty
And laughter
And wonder
Until it is 2 am
And I got to be up
At 5
And inside
That beautiful brain
Is a carnival
Of self
Loathing
Ying yang twins mash ups
And bad dreams.
I look at myself and say
It is my fucking birthday
How dare you
With the
Anxiety
And weird period
And vague teary feelings
So many feelings
And fuck you
Fuck you I'm alive
To hurt
And limp
And fuck up my eyeliner.
I survived you brain.
I still fucks with you
Body.
I guess
Busted down
Old bitch.
And now I can smile
And squint into the spring sun
And be too tired
To speak
To think
To be this raw.
And yet
Here I be
Happy birthday to me.
Posted 03/16/18
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