all these poems about people leaving and not one
about how I convinced myself to stay.
I know what you want to hear-
that I slayed the dragon and swallowed my demons
and laughed in the face of my nightmares
and lived happily ever after-
but the truth is much more ordinary.
the truth is I breathe through the pain
even on the days it whistles between my ribs
on every inhale and every exhale
and I celebrate like hell on the days it doesn’t make a sound.
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