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The 4th of July.
thank God the holiday is over.
the pressure to pretend that everything is okay is the worst.
and i wish it were too, so i get that, but, it’s not.
the bear just  keeps crushing my spirit to ashes
and i refuse to be dust.
i keep thinking we are moving in the right direction,
and then another iron fist.
i don’t even want to talk to him anymore.
so i didn’t tonight.
i took a hot bubble bath instead,
hoping to just relax and wish and wash it all away.
but that failed miserably.
i soaked until the bubbles all popped
and the water was cold.
i watched the hair stand on my skin and the goosebumps form.
and then i finally cried when i heard the fireworks;
knowing that real lovers were intertwined
watching them explode in the sky
with their hearts beating against one another’s.
meanwhile, they just felt like gunshots to me
and my dead body is pretending to be alive
typing these ridiculous thoughts out.