Salted.

Smoke-filled lungs and and a gut full of good news, I’m carrying the weight of the ocean in my broken limbs. The primordial soup of my existence, salted to taste.

I rise from the water, weakened and newborn, unable to remember the beautiful ringing in my ears. Let bitterness sing.

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Bryanne E. Mitchell
Bryanne E. Mitchell

Written by Bryanne E. Mitchell

She/Her 🏳️‍🌈 Exec Producer|Writer|Curator|Biz Dev|Creative Director|Publishing|Licensing|PR|Marketing|Stylist|Mom|Wife

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