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TheBluePanda
Is it my breath? Do I stink? Did you realize I’m awful and lame? Did you notice I can’t focus? Or that I bite my nails And I sing like a locust? For whatever the reason, I’m not your season. The box you’ve made for me I will not squeeze in. So let me be me, Weird and free. Mindless chatter, Is all you’ll be.
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May 1
May 1, 2026 at 6:34 PM UTC
Weird and Free
At any moment, the mention of you can hijack my train of thought and bring me a million miles away. Sometimes, I’ll fight it leaving quickly. Jumping out of that fleeting vessel. It will hurt, but less than if I stay. Then, I’ll take a moment to feel the new wounds, but not long enough to linger. Mindful not to call another train. Sometimes, I stay there though racing down the track, in the memories with you. Dad’s there, too. Those memories, they’re the delicacies of the trip. The wound is worth it. But I cannot stay. All in a matter of milliseconds the train inevitably crashes home. Where I pick up the pieces, so no one will know.
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Apr 12
Apr 12, 2026 at 9:43 PM UTC
Runaway Train
A furious wave of fear pounds against the inside of my gut. Why do I worry so much? I have tried avoiding the voided tunnels, the ones that call in the pit of my stomach. Should I run away from the maze of memories or should I march right in? I'm afraid that it will wash me away. The void will evaporate my identity. Am I as fragile as I feel?
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Dec 22, 2025
Dec 22, 2025 at 2:12 PM UTC
Anxiety
I don’t know how to tell you I feel so far away Like I’m touching heaven Toes tickling space My trajectory’s a mess It’s out of my control My brain is slipping by Nothing for you to hold
0
Dec 22, 2025
Dec 22, 2025 at 2:08 PM UTC
Day Dreaming
I want a Time Machine for Christmas So we can go back to before. It means I’d get to see you. And hug you once or thrice more.
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Dec 3, 2025
Dec 3, 2025 at 7:50 PM UTC
I want a Time Machine for Christmas
“I miss my sister,” I say as my head makes a thud against his chest. My tears leaves evidence behind. Two little nostril prints and all. I miss my sister. I take a deep breath as I’m hit with the nostalgia. It smells like her. I think I’ll stay a little while longer. I miss her laughter intertwining with mine, And the wine. And the jokes, That only we would know. I miss the way she made me feel, Heard and seen. My big sister and me. I just miss her. I miss my sister.
0
Dec 3, 2025
Dec 3, 2025 at 7:43 PM UTC
I Miss My Sister
Cassiopeia. Sounds like they were jealous And just called her vain.
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Nov 24, 2025
Nov 24, 2025 at 12:29 AM UTC
Cassiopeia
My village burned. I watched it curl to smoke. And when I cried for help, They all thought it was a joke. Mom moved north, married a Christian banker man. When I visit, I’m committed to giving my kids more freedom. My sister got high on **** Her body fading into a ghost. She might not even be alive She doesn’t pick up the phone. My brother says I’m just too much: too loud, too heavy, too proud and tear-stained. Every word a siphon on my veins. And Dad?              Where’s Dad?                                          Dad? Hiding behind his work. Emotionally phobic, Pretending my name is silence. Because I'm not compliant. He uses the tears of my grief, To wash his hands of me. My village burned. My cries fell silent. So, I walked away. Now, I’m the bad guy.
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Nov 23, 2025
Nov 23, 2025 at 9:50 PM UTC
My Village Burned
My mom is a Weeping Willow. Bendable beyond belief. But breakable. Your mom is a Locust tree Unmoving. Stubborn. And adorned with thorns. We grew up in their shadow. But we are not the same. We bend with the wind. And our roots run deep.
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Nov 21, 2025
Nov 21, 2025 at 7:15 PM UTC
Pruning Season
Your hands are clean You’ve washed them well From the family you kept In a private hell. But the emptiness remains A mark of your disguise A father who’s built on two things Control and lies
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Sep 10, 2025
Sep 10, 2025 at 8:27 PM UTC
Wash Your Hands