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Jessica Lynn Gammalo


Los Angeles, CA, US

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Jessica Lynn Gammalo

now i know why emily hid her writing in her walls. she couldnt stop as they poured out. she had no choice. she couldnt stand to stare at them. she couldnt stand to bare them. but they just kept coming. and coming. and come.... come.... come.... the words come to mind and they begin to make sense and rhyme. once she wrote them down she knew, the words would come true. and follow her and follow her and follow her like mine do!!!!!!! and im forever being chased by things that were said. similar to the way i am chased by the dead. and ill try to explain it to you but you wouldnt believe me if i told you. and the unbelievers think im crazy! they say that mothers like me should not be able to have babies. leave that one to the lackadaisical ladies. they say that i will be loved by no man. oh.... but what a shame it would be for a prophet like me to not drip out thousands of little ....round ... cherry tomato shaped children! ah whatever they can have them once they!
are born. i just want to watch my belly grow and cover my toes so i can finally feel any sort of kind of life inside of myself again. its been gone since you have been gone. and thats only temporary. once they are born i will be come sad again. sylivia tells me this. even with all of the little voices she couldnt help but try and oven-broil her brain. thought that that type of sauteing might make her sane but instead just left her half alive. killed her body but didnt realize that all her written words would never die. and when she was gone she could no longer lie that she didnt mean it. it was just a joke. just like my little lynn says things like 'come with me, come run away, leave your stuff in LA... ill never leave you again. im a fool of a man. you can have every part of me this time i promise! i promise ill fix it. you can keep all my freckles. even your favorite brown one right above the left corner of my lip. dont you remember jessica how you used to kiss it? dont !
you miss it????' and i just ignore him. he sounds like the her!
oin bird
outside my window. sound like my husband saying 'im sorry' sounds like every other fucking word all you men hiss.... and i just laugh as i just write it.