it is our inherent right. as human beings to be. soft.

 

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She took all of his photos placed them in a folder and marked it “do not open”. She hid the folder in her pocket and vowed to only pull it out when she felt it safe enough.

seven months.

That’s how long it took.

And after convincing herself that it was ok to look inside; that in doing so she wouldn’t be reopening doors to their past, but merely recovering broken memories, she opened the folder and perused its content. she studied each photograph and gently picked it apart. the curl of his lips when he smirked and she smiled. the glint in his eyes when he laughed and she cried.

She closed her eyes as the scent of cookies and cocoa butter danced in her nose.

he always smelled so good.

a single tear rolled down her cheek and hid beneath her chin as she remembered how he’d stash her away behind secret doors of  hotel rooms.

how he made her feel like a mere piece of pussy instead of a whole human being when he’d come in, fuck her silly and then leave

with only a forehead kiss to keep her warm

while he returned to his comfortable bed and

rested his head on the pillows he had just deceived  

she took his photos placed them in a folder bound with her tears and marked it do not open.

she vowed to only pull it out when a hint of him brushed her brow and threatened her memory

when she needed a stiff reminder of what not to do.

 

-hidden pictures

i’m sensitive to many things

people in particular

the way they hold my parts

the way they handle my pieces

most times people are trash…and that’s an understatement

but if by chance you happen upon one or two that treat you well and handle you with care…

hold on to them

he got mad because i wouldn’t clean his house

he expected me to come in and tackle a mess that ain’t been clean since his

last relationship

the smell of dead bodies and disappointment filled his air

he tried to mask it with febreze in hopes of tricking me into thinking he was clean

-then he had the nerve to call me lazy