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WheretheInkDries
WheretheInkDries
21/M/Pittsburgh I’m a love poet, even if I don’t want to be. / I’m an existentialist, even if I don’t want to be. / I’m in love with life, even if I don’t want to be.
All I ever used to want is time And now the hands have been taken off of clocks, And while I still hear the ticking- I have to guess if it’s only in my head Or 5 o’clock somewhere again And I never wake up to the sun. I’m ghoulish white counting the bricks of my chamber Trying to figure out if I would die if I jumped from the window If I would die from being in a market Or hugging someone I loved All I ever used to want is time. And now it just feels like we’re living fast forward in slow motion. Going nowhere. But advancing through our scenes.
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Apr 25, 2020
Apr 25, 2020 at 5:47 PM UTC
The Sun Dial
There are days where I am high upon a dusk cloud And rustic skylines bleed into bare trees There are days where I bleed into white sheets And I never leave the the lights on There are days, and then more days And minutes within smiles, seconds ticking laughter, half assed conversation among fruitful hallways Strawberry girl smiles and she would hate that I called her that And maybe she would hit me and maybe I’m an ******* and maybe I’m a baby And I’m a baby. I remember not knowing I could die, not ever thinking about my heart, not ever waisting any time. I should be that way now, And yet as clocks continue to tick I just hum along in the warmth So sometimes days become weeks But sometimes days are just too short And some days I am just to short For the heights I want to reach I remember jumping had a different connotation when I was a kid...
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Apr 15, 2020
Apr 15, 2020 at 10:38 AM UTC
The Sky is a Door