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Exposure

When I was fifteen,
I realized that I held the sky in my mouth. It was a Tuesday, and I was riding shot gun with my father, when
I looked out my window at the trees,
moving faster than my hands could write
the feelings they left me with;
down,
that I realized how big this world really was,
and how small I was.
I was seventeen the first time I could taste the way that words felt.
The very word seventeen, felt like a firecracker sitting beneath my tongue.
I realized how the names of people had their own feelings,
and how people’s souls had their own colors.
I was eighteen the first time I realized how people’s hands are so painful to photograph,
so draining,
because even though they’re empty,
they’re holding so much. That emptiness,
filling the entire room.
I was eighteen, the first time I realized that houses, have voices,
mine, the soft voice of a young man.
It wasn’t until they wanted to take who I was away, to a place where she could never come back;
that I realized, that I have my entire life floating above my head; across my shoulders, in between my fingers....it wasn’t until I lost a part of me,
that I realized that I am so small,
and life is so much more.

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