We do not know how to say these things, 
the truths, the histories, 
every ugly bit nestled in the gut. 

How long can we carry the entirety
of ourselves?
How long until our spines break from the hidden vastness?

We hold the mythologies holy in our mouths,
and the realities sink fast to the bottom,
where honesty and shame share
the same stained bed. 

Once we start saying the unholy things,
peeling away the paint,
we will never be able to stop.

We will bleed out our stories 
until the stars go out.

Emily Palermo, Heavy in My Arms (via starredsoul)
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