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faux-jae
17/F/nj fueled by music and lapslock
everyone is so afraid. they are shakin gand trembli ngand un stable everyone is so afraid that someone will say it. they eat their food and kiss their wives and dot their i's but they are TERRIFIED everyone is so afraid that someone will point it out. that there is something wrong with the dinnerware it cuts at their fingers - white plates turned red the teapot so far gone that the smell of chamomile stains the tablecloth they are stifled - watching in horror as their forks split porcelain to pieces; and more; and more; and  more  . . . splintering into obscurity the china is Cracked. and everyone knows
0
Mar 22, 2023
Mar 22, 2023 at 2:28 PM UTC
ceramic
don’t be a stranger. last night, i reached out to a few old friends, forgotten family, to make amends, id gladly do it again; it was nice to push away my pride, burn some bridges, let go of grudges hey stranger, don’t be a stranger smile like a friend
0
Jan 20, 2022
Jan 20, 2022 at 11:50 AM UTC
hey stranger
in a book, this would mean something a metaphor for loss or a symbol of death in a book, i'd be crying and hesitant wiping away tears and smudging lead on lamp in a book, this would be grieving in a book, maybe things wouldn't turn out this way some sort of redemption arc teased and foreshadowed a sliver of hope in a book, people would be easy to read two-dimensional and predictable, no room for hurt in between the lines in a book, maybe id be tracing this in pen cradling every memory of mine with my heart held high and no regrets loving every second of every moment of every happy ending i erase and erase itching to burn the shavings and erase again deleting years - erase deleting smiles - erase deleting fans - erase deleting nights where he was all i had in a book, maybe i wouldn't move on so quickly maybe i would have waited before etching over the past so fast in this book, would book-me incinerate her erasers? would book-me close the back cover and pick up another read? in a book, this would mean something but it doesn't
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Dec 17, 2020
Dec 17, 2020 at 3:15 AM UTC
author's note
today i woke up to a spirit. i opened my eyes to nothingness, but i could feel the warmth radiating off of the dip in the bed. at first i was dumbfounded where were you? could you be the spirit? and so i fell in l-o-v-e with it.        wherever i go the spirit follows. i feel it hold my hand i feel it massage my shoulders i feel its l-o-v-e giving me subtle back hugs through my days seeing its blank pages and crestfallen words in a misted silhouette dripping invisible ink and cloudless skies it is not tall or short, nor boisterous or timid its l-o-v-e lives in hushed sighs thriving in times of need and want licking at insecurity and toeing the line between warm and unwelcome        the spirit’s words fill the stillness replacing anything that was missing with a brand, NOT-MISSING, in bold red font sorting emotions into definitions and not feelings it plays lorde on tuesdays and falls asleep at three a.m. organizing my books alphabetically because everything must make sense things always needs to make sense        It listens.        the day you left i fell in l-o-v-e with a spirit. the embodiment of your memory the sweetness of its silence the comfort of an embrace        i, reality, woke up today        you, abstract, seep into crevices where you do not belong turning everything into meaningless greyscale poking out of my head and into my business into my life into my spirit that reeks of ink and dust as i choke and gag on the imaginary memories slurring on sour, dingy and desperate hidden behind my teeth. my spirit and i play mitski on fridays it doesn’t speak and it dare not sing along prodding at delusion, the spirit wipes my tears mouths that it will be here forever smiles that you are a future tense that the bed was always empty, and the warmth was my own heartbeat that my soul would not let me down so easily you left in a future tense where the bed is not empty, and i do not wonder of nothing where you will speak, and you will laugh, and you will play christmas songs in the middle of july rebranding everything missing NOT-MISSING to memories        and once the spirit leaves me, too? at least i'll be prepared for the emptiness
0
Dec 17, 2020
Dec 17, 2020 at 3:08 AM UTC
the day you left (expanded)
today i woke up to a spirit. i opened my eyes to nothingness, but i could feel the warmth radiating off of the dip in the bed. at first i was dumbfounded where were you? could you be the spirit? and so i fell in l-o-v-e with it.        wherever i go the spirit follows. i feel it hold my hand i feel it massage my shoulders i feel its l-o-v-e giving me subtle back hugs through my days seeing its blank pages and crestfallen words in a misted silhouette dripping invisible ink and cloudless skies it is not tall or short, nor boisterous or timid its l-o-v-e lives in hushed sighs thriving in times of need and want licking at insecurity and toeing the line between warm and unwelcome        the spirit’s words fill the stillness replacing anything that was missing with a brand, NOT-MISSING, in bold red font sorting emotions into definitions and not feelings it plays lorde on tuesdays and falls asleep at three a.m. organizing my books alphabetically because everything must make sense things always needs to make sense        It listens.        the day you left i fell in l-o-v-e with a spirit. the embodiment of your memory the sweetness of its silence the comfort of an embrace        i, reality, woke up today        you, abstract, seep into crevices where you do not belong turning everything into meaningless greyscale poking out of my head and into my business into my life into my spirit that reeks of ink and dust as i choke and gag on the imaginary memories slurring on sour, dingy and desperate hidden behind my teeth. my spirit and i play mitski on fridays it doesn’t speak and it dare not sing along prodding at delusion, the spirit wipes my tears mouths that it will be here forever smiles that you are a future tense that the bed was always empty, and the warmth was my own heartbeat that my soul would not let me down so easily you left in a future tense where the bed is not empty, and i do not wonder of nothing where you will speak, and you will laugh, and you will play christmas songs in the middle of july rebranding everything missing NOT-MISSING to memories        and once the spirit leaves me, too? at least i'll be prepared for the emptiness
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48
in the gutter, she lost herself in waves and echoes she found colors in their noise brought her soul out as a brush and let herself be free building off of the whispers in the air, she tangles herself in the wires of headphones much too silent her hands wailing with her: offkey but peaceful making art of a dartboard rather than a bullseye she hears the texture, hears the emphasis, and the contrast she paints notes, paints not so pitch-perfect progressions bathing until her eardrums shake and the canvas leaves no room for silence
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Nov 5, 2020
Nov 5, 2020 at 2:00 AM UTC
she heard silence.
sing me your inspiration, so that words may blossom through the rings of the tree in my paper. gift me your passions, so that pathways may carve through inked rivers and graphite daydreams. paint me your love, so that I may palette your rainbow and color my canvas with my favorite colors of you. the soft pink of the inside of your lips, and the offset grey haloed through your eyelashes. tiger lily freckles framed by sweet peach and wallflower blushes. rainfall wrists and dutch cocoa silk. all my canvas needs are the colors of you.
0
Oct 31, 2020
Oct 31, 2020 at 11:51 AM UTC
colors of you
everyone wishes for their over the rainbow but nobody knows that an addiction to blithe is worse than a wicked witch
0
Mar 10, 2020
Mar 10, 2020 at 4:31 PM UTC
OZ