I forgot how to speak with grief in my mouth.
Knocking on the door is something I don’t need. Dressed in black cotton and moving through rooms. I want my spine to curve itself like water. Watch me learn to breathe around this space.
Knocking on the door is something I don’t need. Dressed in black cotton and moving through rooms. I want my spine to curve itself like water. Watch me learn to breathe around this space.
Ana Carrizo, “In Grief” (via elvedon)
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