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I feel ugly in a room this loud & unwilling / to speak at all.
Emily O’Neill, from “Dear Andy,” published in Sixth Finch
(via lifeinpoetry)
(via lifeinpoetry)
I can wander outside my own body
to see who razed the city. What outline stayed.
If there are bones. Buildings. Gas cans.
half full of escape. An oracle
banished from the temple with no god
or knife or speech has no weapon
but herself.
Emily O’Neill, “XVI.” (from Stag)