A Good Little Girls Zine

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Hollow

Some nights when the clock strikes midnight. Some days in the early hours of dawn, when I am asleep and also awake, I feel an

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Petal by Petal

Brought upon by difference I breathe out fire, inhale ice a fusion. I am a sculpted body of powerful thoughts just waiting to be Plucked,

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Mountain Pose

From a distance I stand in mountain pose, channel the ground beneath me to center the particles that long to join the majority of tribes

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This Dart

I never see it coming, the sharp point, feather tail blowing in the wind I never hear it coming the swoosh of that tail slicing

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Diamond

I am a diamond brilliant stunning sharp—at the edges, unyielding core. I am a diamond birthed from pressure, surfaced from an eruption. I am a

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Pilot Light

Tomorrow I’ll put out the baby pilot lamp that I’ve kept going for the past year and a half. The remains of a bonfire built

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Permanent Resident

In the corner of my mind she resides, large heavy cloak, dark, deep-set eyes—a constant reminder Her inky black clothes spill easily, if I let

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p.w.c.d.

The first time I had post world cup depression (PWCD) was four years ago. I had just returned from a solo road trip up to

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