hunched shoulders
short breaths
this is my legacy
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I wish you shared here more often. Your writing is great.
this is so deeply important to read for me i can't believe someone sent this . thank you .
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We live in the same city But different States of Mind I have no time for anybody Any body No body
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Drift into Time - exhibition view, Maiko Kobayashi, 2012.
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You are not a concrete building
You are not stuck
Dear feather, you do not have wind
But you are carried
You will go mad with the heights
and believe you are falling into air with the ground looking more like
the sky
But tumble and fall
Destinations are for suckers
Get worn down and where you disappear
You have arrived
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the howlers
the growlers
the wailers
you have holes in your shoes lighting stuck in your throat fingertips soft like velvet voices tunnelling through the fog I hear your truth spinning out of your hands I light a candle but you don't see me you just see fire and run I understand sometimes heat can be cruel but the heat between your hands and my neck have never scared me away I run into the heat eat away at the coal and ash leaving smudged prints carrying the weight of your fear I carry it for you so you can run faster
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jagged writing of thoughts
i have a bleeding heart and it pumps
rage and sorrow on the floor and i'm
walking in circles
there can be the sea
as long as i can reach it
there will always be pain
so long as humans have no wings
can only sing
all in circles
the water seems solid i wonder
if i could walk on its surface
would i drown, or be enlightened?
show her pouring muscles
straining pulses
heaving hands
and take close attention
to where she wants to go
if it's in circles, leave
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part 3
my hearts sits at the top of my chest like a raindrop
until it swells and drops
down down d o w n
and ripples
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part 2
rip my roots
the seeds of my mind are not reaching water
let go
of certain ideas of self
you are a plant
an ember
never consider yourself anything
until you remove doubt
you are not yourself with poison in your heart
this poem means nothing
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quick postings of poems I don't remember writing part 1
soothe my quivering nerves
reach out towards my hunched shoulders
there is weakness in me
a touch would cure me
of wounds that i love
help me stop loving the things that make me ugly
i love being ugly
i deserve ugly
i am ugly
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you're found
buried under daily routine
in between the lulls and silences of life
i can't keep finding you there
this guilt mimics my pulse
in an offbeat undercurrent
always flowing unnoticeable
until i remember
the waves push up against my self esteem
you're awful (i know)
be ashamed (everyday, i promise)
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My friends don't know me
because I've never been sober around them
I've been in a haze of drunken
self hate
fear
doubt
warping who I am
like a bar napkin
folded up
crumpled, discarded.
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a razor blade as a bookmark because the words I write down when I think of you are physically painful
I mark the page of you with the sharp blade
Closing our story doesn’t stop it from leaving it’s tracks
Bloody
On every page I’ve tried to write since
Some days I’ll write just to feel the small ache of remembering
But the more I wrote
The further I got away from you (us)
And I can’t remember properly anymore
All I know is
a dull pain of
Where we used to be
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my body and the similarities to my mind
i am soft and
easily bruised
with some awkward curves
there are shadows of scars speckled on me
some occurring by accident,
childhood mistakes, lessons learned
some chosen to be there, feeling heavy and full of static
where my waist is smallest
where i am the most vulnerable
fits the perfect space for you
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worn out
i silence myself so you can't take my words
and drag them dirty on the floor
until i apologize for ruining the carpet
i am not afraid of you
not at all
my eyes do not meet yours anymore because i know
my gaze will leave you haunted
with the choices you made
(i hope you're happy)
when you sulk around the house
in a house that is just
the lingering echo of a potential home
Fuck you.
where were you in the beginning of the year?
you selfish asshole
i once screamed at you and the next day you called it a
"great beginning to further conversations"
you don't understand every time i look at you
i see a liar and a coward
i see you now
but not in my future
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