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OliRose
17/Gender Nonconforming
Powerful creature forsaken by strength, fell from the golden cathedrals divine, torn apart from inside by armored claws— sharp as lies spilled from the splitting beak. Blood and bones seep into ashen earth, that whose trembling lungs consume divinity until bursting forth an impossible vitality, twisting its way through the rotting corpses. Tear flesh from the carcass. Let the heart become the lion, the wings become the eagle, the soul become the flame. To take chase, take flight, take life. Split through the sky, reign decay like a storm down to the core— and shatter the skin until nothing of old is left behind.
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Apr 6, 2021
Apr 6, 2021 at 2:55 PM UTC
Beast of Tragedy
Somewhere I remember all that I lost, all that was taken from my fractured soul. Here I only feel the darkness, the hunger lurking over my conscience. Everywhere I can taste the shadows, caught between gnashing, eager teeth. Still I hear the music gently and painfully, what I was and what I will yet become. Inside my heart beats oil and grease, the endless cycle of a raw and ****** consumption. Who was I when I turned away? Who was I when I lost control? Who was I when I broke the mirror? Who was I when you devoured me?
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Apr 6, 2021
Apr 6, 2021 at 2:37 PM UTC
The Thin Man and the Lady pt. II
They came for us. Mangled distortions warped and corrupted from the hidden corners of our psyche. We were only children. Small eyes gazing fingers grasping the mountains and forests we could not see. It watched from the darkness. Too vast to comprehend to hold its form shifting endlessly in our thoughts. We hid our faces. Shrouded in memories long since turned away from what we shared spoken aloud. Nowhere was safe. So we ran from what we could not accept towards the shadows that we consumed. Who are we, truly? I saw oblivion in your eyes, rotting flesh I did not want to become. So I let go.
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Mar 26, 2021
Mar 26, 2021 at 11:12 PM UTC
The Thin Man and the Lady
I can see the tears falling from your eyes but I don’t hear them hit the ground. They were swallowed too soon by the swollen ocean, dried too quickly by those silent flames, but still I long to feel them frozen at my fingertips. A thousand mourners gather and weep over your wilted body, singing a service of desperation and hope. They carve their sorrows into copper and lay them by your grave for those yet to follow. Their grief will not be silent. We are afraid for the future, but we know what must be done. Know that no matter how many tears may fall, this moment with you will be remembered.
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Aug 20, 2019
Aug 20, 2019 at 4:58 PM UTC
A Funeral For Okjökull
I crossed the path of Bad Luck on the way home in the rain. It approached me carefully, and nestled up into my outstretched hand, and closed its eyes. I gazed into its endless darkness and felt its warmth pulsating. It circled around my legs, then arms, and perched on my shoulder, and fell asleep. It seemed content, and that was all I needed.
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Jul 17, 2019
Jul 17, 2019 at 8:18 AM UTC
Bad Luck
I can feel myself going down down down farther and farther into the rhythm of my own tired eyes as they struggle to stay open. I can hear myself sinking in the wordless voices surrounding me. I am content in drowning myself until I can see nothing but the darkness of my isolation. Here is where I will sleep, and I will be satisfied.
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Jun 20, 2019
Jun 20, 2019 at 2:01 PM UTC
Children’s Playroom
If everything you touch turns to gold and everything I touch turns to ash— then together we will sit upon our thrones of riches and ruin and make the world bow at our feet.
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Jun 7, 2019
Jun 7, 2019 at 10:33 AM UTC
In Perfect Harmony