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Streaks through the sky.
Screams fill the air.
Scour the planet;
You lie alone and think:
Before, it had no meaning.
Now it makes sense.
To be truly alone, you must hear nothing.
Nothing except the sound of your own breathing.
Days pass to weeks and weeks pass to months.
Years go by.
You don't know how you're still alive.
You are hungry, lonely.
Nothing, no one.
You guess that with your people,
Death died too.
How could this happen?
You don't know.
You don't think you will ever know.
You stand up.
You look around.
Familiar, yet so
You look to the sky.
The sun is shining.
It has been since that day.
You feel something.
You know what is going to happen.
It happens at least once a week now.
With this barren planet came mountains,
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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