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james-sebastian
james-sebastian
I often wonder as the night closes in and so do the walls around my mind I wonder when it happened in human evolution that we would become inescapably immobilised by the hands of a clock
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Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 11:13 PM UTC
Immobilised
That night in your car with the windows steamed up maybe because for the first time in months I had felt warm and as the light slowly melted away I did not notice it was the start of something beautiful but beauty fades glory fades and now you're fading and I'm left wondering if it was ever beautiful at all
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Aug 6, 2014
Aug 6, 2014 at 11:04 PM UTC
Fading
I watched a moth flutter meaninglessly against my wall white speckled wings carrying a fragile body again and again flying into the same spot and in that moment i felt an empathy towards that moth for I know the meaning of my being just as little as it did perhaps less
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Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 9:48 PM UTC
The moth
It was so on that winter morning that all the grass and plants were still, frozen in place by the cold chill that rested on our fingertips and lashes it was so on that winter morning that when you exhaled the words ‘I don’t love you anymore’ into the space between us they were accompanied by a reinforcing cloud of steam and i could not fathom how words that cold could have been warmer than the air around us.
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Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 7:45 PM UTC
It was so
I feel like I’m a fake, I could never match up to you. You spun words into constellations that I could never conceive only when I read them I knew your thoughts were different. There were times when you wrote about me but now you are blossoming without me and I am nothing but thorns. Maybe I don’t need you but you will always run through my blood as ink or poison or alcohol sadly, you don’t need me.
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Aug 4, 2014
Aug 4, 2014 at 7:19 PM UTC
I am thorns while you are a rose
I had a dream one day that all the angels were dressed in black as they spoke my name i thought they lamented for me but i realise now they were mourning our love.
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Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 7:49 PM UTC
The angels
There is an infinity between the walls of this room there is an ephemeral affinity between midnight and noon and the curtains at last would bring rise to an absence while the ceiling has seen all our natural afflictions derisions, incisions left lasting from storms and from partings given thoughts it would form the most honest predictions there is an infinity between our vacant caresses that exist yet only when my mind digresses
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Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 6:04 PM UTC
The walls of this room