It Wasn’t Nothing

She's in Prison


I don’t like the power

you hold over me,

the power I let you

hold over me,

clinging to rain stained memories

as insignificant in retrospect

as their simplicity—

holding my hand in the car.

I don’t like revisiting

that moment,

knowing now how little it meant to you

as it stained my life

with impossible desire

as childish as a birthday wish.

I don’t like the compulsion

to write about holes

that shouldn’t exist,

the ridiculousness of caring

for someone that viewed me as a blink.

I can’t stop thinking.

    –Leanne Rebecca

When it comes to the heart, it’s amazing how quickly it can be hurt, that even the most meaningless action to one person can devastate another. The only perspective we ever really have is our own, especially when all of the sudden, perceived truths turn out to be wrong. This is my fancy way of…

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