Posts – copyediting

This is a sample post.

Blogs@Baruch is built on the WordPress platform. Each site allows you and users that you invite to create Posts.

Posts are a great option for student-created content because they are easily sortable by category, tag, date, or author.

This post has been assigned to a Category “Assignment #1”. You can see the Category above the Post title and on the Navigation Menu.

Categories allow you to organize and group related posts together – for example, a series of student assignments.

Categories are added to a specific post before they are published or edited, using the Post settings panel to the right side of the Block Editor.

Any posts categorized as “Assignment #1” will appear if you select that link “Assigment #1” from the Navigation Menu. Posts that are uncategorized or assigned to another category will not appear under that link.

This post has been stuck to the top of the blog, meaning it will always show up at the top of the Posts page. You can change this setting in the Post settings panel.

Edit/Delete this Post by clicking the Edit link immediately below this Post, or from Dashboard > Posts.

“Playground” by Brisbane City Council is licensed under CC BY 2.0.

What does love sound like?
Shouting coming from the room next door
The banging of walls, the falling of chairs
So many pieces are missing from the puzzle
Sometimes you’re walking down the street and you find one
The car door slamming, the man shouting at himself, the child dragging her baby doll on the concrete.
Blurry spots become tangible memories.
It’s supposed to feel like clarity but it really only validates the hole you feel somewhere in your body, the realization your carver left you unfinished.
What does love feel like?
Love is a stranger,
Love is breaking yourself for someone when the irony is that you’ve never been whole in the first place,
Love is pain, abuse, pain, abuse, pain
The cycle continues with whoever is next, playing parallel to the past.
Your soul is screaming for you to see every welcome is not to be accepted
They were the ones who were supposed to protect you, instead they showed you love that stains the pages that haven’t been written yet
And at the same time, the tears are unable to flow.
So much is determined before we get a chance to think
We feel everything that is given to us
Those early years become so imperative.
We let it become our expiration date.
What is love?
Could it not be like this? This is all I know.