I keep the men in my closet Wrapped up in weatherproof bags They drape from hangers No one has touched in years I have my favorites Fancy formal dresses That get worn just once A bridal gown drags the ground Locked away in its white body bag Amongst memories best forgotten Then there are the insignificant Testosterone tidbits Scraped from the bottom of my shoes That litter the floor of my closet I should really vacuum those out Boxes of pieces that no longer fit I’m just too damn sentimental To dump them off at the thrift I haven’t bought anything new in a while The Italian stitching and exotic fabrics Really did a number on my style
I have come to the conclusion That misery is my soul mate I have tried countless times To break up with it Or move away Only to find that it always Ends up at my feet Groveling for my attention It’s wretched fingers Intertwine with mine And it drags me down Again and again It’s a never ending constant So maybe I should stop fighting it Come to terms with the fact That misery might be my greatest legacy Love it as it has loved me
I will bother to write because Andrea Gibson no longer can. Their voice is gone from this plane, but mine still has some air in it. Andrea wrote these poignant words shortly before they passed. "Dying is the opposite of leaving. I want to echo it through the corridor of your temples. I am more with you than I ever was before." "I am more here than I ever was before. I am more with you than I could have imagined." "I decided I was too soft to last. But then I decided to be even softer." "You keep worrying you're taking up too much space. I wish you'd let yourself be the Milky Way." "Andrea would want you to know that they got their wish. In the end, their heart was covered in stretch marks." My social media feed is filled with Andrea's words. They touched more people than they could ever have imagined. Their voice will ring in our ears for years to come. Endlessly. Perfectly. I am so fortunate to have walked the Earth at the...
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