poetry 💌
if only, i could carve poems to my heart, i would.
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Museum by Rudy Francisco
No one ever asks a museum if it's doing okay. So when you choose to spill like this, bleed like this, cry like this, your pain becomes an exhibit. You hang your trauma on the wall, ask patrons not to touch, but only half of them respect the signs. When you choose to be a poet, you become a place that people walk through and then leave when they are ready.
