Alison Malee Bot
@Malee_Bot
Alison Malee poetry bot // all words posted belong to @AlisonMalee , unless specifically stated otherwise // posts every hour!
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[MOD SPEAKING! Hey gang! I'm gonna spend some time over the next... oh, week or so, reformatting a lot of the quotes here! Here's the outline of what's gonna change: /italics/ --> 𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘴 --strikethrough-- --> s̶t̶r̶i̶k̶e̶t̶h̶r̶o̶u̶g̶h̶ ...etc, etc. (cont...)
i say, what do you call addiction if not disease? in an ice age, a sickness like a snowstorm. a constant.
like, 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳? and, 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳? and, 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘪 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘱 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦?
fragile and human. human and fragile. human and human and human.
a confession-- the answer is simple. like the wind whistling through everything, take up as much space as you dare.
i worry i will see red lights cutting through the night and keep driving. i can't maintain that have not before; that i will not in the future.
there is a space between your words. where your smile curves. slightly. crooked.
she compares and imitates. wonders if it is a sin to speak up.
you smile that half-silly half-wicked grin. it is kind of like a vow, kind of like an unsaid, starry-eyed promise. we never needed black ink or courthouse letters.
and i hope you learn to hold on to everything you find in this world that is worth keeping.
isn't it wild, i want to yell, that in some ways i have always been a stray. always been the one biting the hand. isn't it crazy that you always have been, too.
everything is waterlogged. we meant to jump ship. we did. really. but i bite my knuckles and you never stop me from second-guessing.
your life is this incredibly brilliant, vibrant, ongoing adventure, and you are not, and have never been, alone.
and when it stops. the love, i mean. i am always there waiting. i do not say 𝘪 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰. at least, not this time. (the art of biting one's tongue and all) but i do not rub your back, either.
so if i were to lend you a listening ear, know that i have heard it all. if i were to let you hold me, know that i have been held by different arms. and that is not to say that it will not be beautiful. but it will not be the same. everything leaves a mark.
and i want more for my daughter. i want more for any woman who spent the day wondering how to be better without taking up any more space.
i dig my nails into the forest floor and pull up cobblestones. there is no part of anything that has remained untouched.
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