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FORESTCHURCH
FORESTCHURCH
Trans Male/West Virginia
i wasn't born hungry, i remember how it happened. a bad man put a hole in me, one day when i was very young and i've been eating ever since: i love gluttony, hate, **** burning buildings, and you. i'm sorry, it's not my fault. i was born hungry, like strange flowers bloom: both too old and too soon.
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Nov 16, 2024
Nov 16, 2024 at 7:51 PM UTC
death dream of rose
The way she holds herself Like a queen But so young The walk of a Queen Is the walk of someone who carries a burden And she is far to young Too kind a soul, To be taking on God's punishment
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Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 10:00 PM UTC
A queenly burden
She had a love in her heart And never let it go Even when it led her astray And every night, she lay alone and pondered Asking questions to the midnight sky, and receiving moonbeams for answers. Her nightgown fluttered in the dark room like the wings of a butterfly or moth Her eyes gleamed in the night, like moonbeams of Heavenly design Her hair is strands of silver silk woven by a goddesses loom Her face as pale as the face of the moon Her feet are bare and she treads with an airy float And she dances A magnificent flowing whirl Entrancing all those who see her, a Heavenly girl, The woman in the moon The inquirer of the gods And her wings flutter softly in the spotlight the moon's rays have created for her And she flutters back home. The people below watch the iridescent butterfly take flight, and they think to themselves "What a lovely night it is!"
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Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 9:50 PM UTC
Messenger of the Moon
Making something out of nothing Often works too well Or not at all Hard to reach that non-attainable thing That balance That order So beautiful That I can no longer think About anyone else His calm look When he has it worst of all of us He represents a perfection An order The perfectionist in us all So at the long nights When you feel most lonely I whisper these sweet nothings to my sweet nothing And hold you close to my heart Always
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Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 9:30 PM UTC
Sweet Nothing
A heartbeat A feeling of pure joy Of warmth Of safety Never letting me go It flutters in my mind A relaxed feeling Like sitting by a fire, drinking coca On a cold mourning, Like a warm embrace from someone you love One cannot replicate this feeling Or the feeling behind it would be lost No miraculous drug To bring fourth this sensation All you need is warm light, and your own imagination To feel like you can fly And to know this pleasure is possible Is a pleasure in its own Of its own Of our own Togetherness is the key Surrounded in the warm light that I love, Until the light turns to a beautiful nothing in my arms
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Feb 8, 2019
Feb 8, 2019 at 9:28 PM UTC
Warm Light