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NecessityI stare at Lori as she grows smaller and smaller, wringing my hands. She's always been the brave one, doing dares, taking risks, while I just watch her in awe, and sometimes terror.Necessity by YppleJax
It's terror at the moment. She's twenty feet up, and still climbing.
There's a little clump of 10-year-old boys from the neighborhood watching avidly next to me. One of them got one of those new drone toys with lots of propellers for Christmas, he's been flying it around nearly every day since. It was a little creepy, because the thing had a camera and I swear I'd seen it hovering outside my window once. But if you watched him use it, it was endearing, that laser-like focus only little kids seem to be able to muster for gadgets or whatever incomprehensible collectible card game they're playing.
Now his expression is torn between anguish and hope. The drone is dangling from one of the highest branches of a large tree, leaves jammed into the propeller openings. Lori a
Sink or SwimHe left her there to sink or swim.Sink or Swim by brownhairedmaiden
She learned how to float.
Bond fireYou can torch the haystack all you want,Bond fire by brownhairedmaiden
I already have the needle.
This is Where the Healing BeginsBut worst of all, I am left with the kind of pain that tastes raw in your stomach. The kind that has turned into anger after too many years of keeping it down. And it remains for as long as you allow it to exist.This is Where the Healing Begins by brownhairedmaiden
Like, putting a sticker on something when you were little and after it's been there for too long—to the point where your eyes got bored of looking at it—you scrape it off with your fingernails, but the sticky underside can still be seen and felt, reminding you that there was something there to begin with. And every time you glance back at the place you put it—a door, window, binder—the memory of its presence slaps you in the face. And it always hurts more than it should.
But I'm beginning to think that's the point of pain. We need to be reminded of what hurt us every once in a while so we know not to keep going back to it. And perhaps in the future when everything has settled down, you think back to that time of suffering and laugh
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You can submit any and everything that you feel is coming out of that funky little heart of yours.
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Let your freak flag fly!
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