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the course through adolescence;
bent, crooked, running.
simply put: not straight.
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"You haven’t kissed anyone for a while now.
To you, everything tastes like blood."

Warsan Shire, from “Souvenir,” Our Men Do Not Belong to Us
(via 7-weeks)

Posted: 5 years ago with 11,282 notes

Reblogged from: freethepoets

Originally posted by: lifeinpoetry

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