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Does Not Compute

Good news:

I figured out
the trigger!

I think I kind of knew
all along,
but it was just too
ridiculous
to admit.

Like, I would find it really funny
if I didn’t spend the past six weeks
crashing through some terrible
thoughts and feelings and behaviors
that I haven’t experienced in
at least four years.

And if I told you the cause,
I’m not sure if you’d be
confused, or
absolutely
crushed.

I’m gonna go with confused.

So get this:
Had I fallen far enough—
and I was genuinely afraid I might—
you might have literally
killed me with kindness.

Because poor Erin’s little brain
cannot fathom why someone
so refreshingly normal,
so seemingly well-adjusted,
so objectively likable—
not to mention unbelievably
inspirational and successful—
would waste any time
on someone as
inadequate
as her.

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Red Wine

would you be willing to trade your Malbec
and Rioja for a different red—
what was it? a Zinfandel?—
and split the bottle with me,
as I cry into a stump,
with all my clothes,
and without—
getting hurt.

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