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Writer's picturesawyer kurtenbach

girls & boys

girls are soft. they crumble into pieces at my fingertips, as i grasp vainly at air and wonder where it all went wrong. the words pierce into our backs, force their way between our intertwined fingers, carve themselves deep and harsh into my skin for everyone to see. i feel, something, and i do not know why. i can’t give you answers if they fall apart when i touch them. i say why, how, help me please, but my voice fades with my memory of their falling smiles.


boys are fraught with pain. they are all harsh lines, cutting edges that i do not know how to explore. i think, i dream, i see, but you have changed me. you, who broke me, and swept all of my shattered pieces back into a misshapen semblance of what i once was. i have reclaimed my body, but every once in a while, i feel my face start to crack and i quickly pick up my pieces before they can see. i keep my distance, watching. hoping.

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