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missanthrope
27/F/Cambridge
Let me slip into my Queen. Appetite, Slumber, Sloughs off of her as easily as water. She passes through, to The other side of Fear In her penetrability She has no Peer Shapeless threats of the night Merely dampenings of light Let me slip on my frigid Queen. Mortal fears free of her lease Reign wild, at the very least But before my Queen They quiver, shrivel, Into a sheen Of ice, from sniffling drivel. Her countenance a light deadpan, Her governance, her birthright, tends A sooty silence, A dumb penance, Mum.
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Jul 18, 2024
Jul 18, 2024 at 9:01 AM UTC
Intent
Look, here I am Reclined, legs akimbo, Outwardly bulging to lordosis. A pint of blueberries on my hips, form A **** train through my lips I had been honored by the Hoarding Board: Primly donuts, princely Kinder, Father Belvita, priggish pretzels. They were folded With teeth, into acid. They're all memorialized, in thrall Wrappers nested within wrappers Yes. Here I am Churning away My heart pulsing lust My fingers settling dust. Your concerns in front of the mirrors Of dressing rooms, of fitness-gymnasiums Petty. I'm above all that, I ate all of that. Pretty.
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Jul 18, 2024
Jul 18, 2024 at 9:00 AM UTC
Braggadocio
mumbles, jumbles, into the night my baby phoenix stumbles into its plight a better life was merely imagined but my dove, my dear, bitterly determined huddled witnesses there! in the square a drove of fireflies, watching her rebirth in fire, laid bare. her tuckered tail, dead-centered -- shaking off crimson pearls of lunar lunacy, henceforth, bleeding on her own time, her own tenancy. her talons look at us. we look at fiery lips that lash and scorch her. never more before his penetrating gaze, as her wings form a column of blaze. she soars, she screams: but to nothing but scorn -- the square-goers think she is just forlorn.   my dove, my dear, for your ****** death -- I pray it greets not a dragon's breath.
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Jun 4, 2023
Jun 4, 2023 at 10:34 AM UTC
death of a phoenix
A hallelujah for classes with masks I'm basking in masked yawns, masked frowns, half-opened lips dreaming of soda sips.
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Jan 7, 2022
Jan 7, 2022 at 1:46 PM UTC
When boredom is p-endemic
sitting here, with elbows resting on each knee chin resting on cupped palms skull resting on clenched teeth gaze restless on the page. sitting here, without interest, intent, or intensity restive yet frozen taking classes by the dozen.
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Sep 14, 2021
Sep 14, 2021 at 1:42 PM UTC
restless
My footfalls, they Were the could-care-less slaps Of a housewife’s plastic slippers Upon her unyielding hardwood floors When she unwillingly gets up from the sofa To open the door For her ugly husband.
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Aug 29, 2021
Aug 29, 2021 at 6:48 AM UTC
I hate running
The masked runner’s breath Is already circumcised fivefold. But he will never get over the humiliation Of wearing right on his mouth A diaper Of saliva, stale air, and swears.
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Aug 28, 2021
Aug 28, 2021 at 2:17 PM UTC
The Masked Runner
baby give me some more of that baby— lotion. i want some more of that baby— lotion. you’re the best i’ve ever had you’re the best baby— lotion i’ve ever rubbed on. give me every last drop of yourself— baby .
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Aug 28, 2021
Aug 28, 2021 at 2:16 PM UTC
lotion
normally I love the sum of the sun, the summer. every bleak winter day I wait for the sun to kiss me again. but today her kiss is unbearable torching my eyes blazing past my eyelids radiating right through my core extinguishing me from within. every bleak second of today I waited for the sun to go away. all I wanted was some more shuttered seconds some more blissful blackout some more ducky dreams.
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May 20, 2021
May 20, 2021 at 6:20 PM UTC
new summer
not even my favorite people may seek their rest in peace, when their tombs are encircled by this endless, mindless bustle— the bustle of an aimlessly industrious life that is no better than death. unmute the video mute yourselves
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Mar 26, 2021
Mar 26, 2021 at 1:35 PM UTC
noisy cemeteries