Fiction
Crooked Assumptions of Distorted Norms
You tell me I haven't grown up yet.But did I not stop my parents from fighting when I was just 12?Did I not hug myself to sleep when all I needed was a mother's lullaby?You tell me I am yet to know the
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This author writes for Revlox Magazine across culture, history, long-form reporting, and the stranger corners of the human story.
Fiction
You tell me I haven't grown up yet.But did I not stop my parents from fighting when I was just 12?Did I not hug myself to sleep when all I needed was a mother's lullaby?You tell me I am yet to know the
Fiction
I will love you. Love you hard. I will tell you, you are my person I will make slurry confessions about how secure you make me feel. I will make you lead the way. I will answer all your questions. I will hold your hand at times and smile at
Fiction
I live in a whore house. It's not the mere purchase of skin here. We have other products too And it's all for free.I sell lies.And I charge 3 facades in exchangeOne for you to pretend you understand meOne for you to think you
Fiction
Slow deliberate whispersTo my battered earsChanting and preaching.Of better days and nights.. Hushed promises To my torn self Of endless love and unfathomable passion . . Blows and low hits During the odd hours of midday Strengthening my unkept vows of fixation . . Hitched and booted steps To stride by peddle stones