
even kings must kneel.
No regents. Only Kings. A poem.

i loved a man. i’ve got the scars to prove it.
Love left its marks. This is what my scars taught me.
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bloodshed.
A poem on pain, power, and what it costs to rise again.
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by the window.
A poem on waiting, wasting, and wanting.
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one day i'll tell my daughter about the man i couldn't save.
A poem about the men we lose and the daughters we raise.
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dry clean only.
I am cut from a cloth made of the most delicate fabric. Handle with care.
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