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Kene
27/M I hope you find something of value in my words. Writing is a healing process for both the writer and the reader.
Clouds suspended in the ocean above and their liquid silver peripheries illuminate the surrounding sky. Revealing nothing But concealing Nothing… The air is Still. Cold and warmth are… simply suggestions Situated in the serene. Your mind breathes indulges in the silence it’s been starved of for hours. Years..
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Mar 31
Mar 31, 2026 at 6:08 PM UTC
Situated in the serene.
The earth was skinned alive Then its epidermal dirt… was slowly rubbed in eyes Rendered blind Tilted head When the sun rests high Begging… “Sun, catch my iris” “Sun, catch my iris” To no avail. Pupils drowned in the dark Dilate and swallow. The loathing hollows This vessel filled with rich soil.
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Mar 25
Mar 25, 2026 at 6:04 PM UTC
Dark eyes.
Searching for sonder but your shadow is a glutton. A better self pleads for some respite from the sudden realisation that you can't sustain yourself like this. isolating... ruminating... Scraping your soul's calluses It's dead skin. Dead sin. but your ego is carniverous thinking trauma makes you different and kind words are an irritant still pray to God for deliverance Oh, the cognitive dissonance... of a healing mind where a peeled scab is rehab, but it's all by design.
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Dec 29, 2025
Dec 29, 2025 at 9:59 AM UTC
Searching for sonder
Staring at the wall. Fake ivy strewn across a blemish of black mould. An unfortunate self-portait.
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Dec 16, 2025
Dec 16, 2025 at 10:57 AM UTC
Self-portrait
Before the sun returns bask in a deluded state tell myself a thousand lies about past mistakes, what's at stake? Before the sun returns I'll doomscroll 'til my eyes bleed satiate my soul's greed my better self he does pleed. Before the sun returns ambitions war with self image anxiety disguised as sobriety so I'm rendered timid. Before the sun returns suburbs will be painted through silver-lit streets and wishes for new silver spoons. Before the sun returns I'll crane my neck to the brink Stare into the sky where stars wink Boeings blink. Before the sun returns I'll be submerged in serenity find contentment in my existence but only temporarily..
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Nov 21, 2025
Nov 21, 2025 at 6:16 PM UTC
Before the sun returns
You see, the water does all the things it’s meant to. It does everything and nothing It goes everywhere and nowhere. Its essence is dichotomies and dualities The shores line its gentle brutality Infinite and dangerous - an endless finality Sometimes still – a lifeless vitality. The wind can push it The earth can shake it To understand this paradox is a risk – Don’t take it. A stagnant mind will see you drowned. Producing these lines, but not a sound. Words to be written but not to be spoken. These are the words my soul has chosen.
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Jul 30, 2023
Jul 30, 2023 at 4:11 PM UTC
Stagnant
Splinters, blisters. Losers, winners. Saints and sinners. "Come in for dinner" s It's where we learned to socialise. Our very own sovereign land zero politics and conflicts always solved hand to hand. Loud junctions juxtaposed against our little corner of paradise motorists peering in when they stop at that red light. Ringing on doorbells, buzzing on intercoms The anticipation to hear whether your friend was home or not. Colourblind kids with the most vivid sight. Retrieving footballs under parked cars was the extent of our plights. I didn't know where the world would take us or the type of people it would make us, but something I learned from a young age is that the rest of the world isn't like Gooseacre.
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Jul 29, 2023
Jul 29, 2023 at 12:24 PM UTC
Gooseacre Lane
A moment of clarity Stifled creativity plaguing my sanity. Negativity’s rhyme scheme Always alters the atmosphere. Writer’s block obscures a slighted right hemisphere. The brain’s left side is logical, factual The right side intuitive and creative, My brain marches - left, right, left, right All over ink stains and blank spaces. Navigating these ruts requires emotional dexterity and my creative muscles have been stiff So, it’s difficult to write with sincerity. I can’t just churn it out while I’m burning out Maybe I should try, I can be quite cynical Not all creative blocks are easy to lift Mine weighs one hundred and seventy odd syllables.
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Sep 10, 2021
Sep 10, 2021 at 8:06 PM UTC
A writer's block
Where anger and grief learn to handle their frustrations Where your mind sits down and tends to complications… Where truth and lies stand on equal footing Where ambitions and doubts do their pulling and pushing Silence is… Chaos and calm Spiritual balm. The abyss where you can find both, healing and harm.
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Sep 10, 2021
Sep 10, 2021 at 8:01 PM UTC
Silence...
Intertwining souls Immaterial and immature Navigating each other’s boundaries, coasts and shores. Redefining what’s commonly referred to as ‘Love’ Requiring understanding and flexibility Requiring both strength and vulnerability. Weakness is courage, when teetering the tightrope of romantic and platonic. Insecurity and traumas, also balance on it. If and when you fall off, it is into the chasm. where balance is no longer required and perfection is no longer desired. The fear of letting go. to tie up loose ends. The irony of falling, In a bid to ascend…
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Jun 7, 2021
Jun 7, 2021 at 8:41 PM UTC
A bid to ascend