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stephanie-cheehy
like an m and m in a party game jar explicitly crammed in the ping of the muffled voices of the outlanders and the amplified clang of the screams as one chocolate morsel shuffles against the next BLUE!! YELLOW RED BROWN!!!!! BLUE RED! we all know there ain’t anymore elbow room to go around and we all know what’ll happen once the faces outside stop squinting we have to take a sta--YELLOW!
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May 22, 2017
May 22, 2017 at 9:50 PM UTC
Red
I wake up sometimes and frantic the clutter I shove and tuck in all edges shaming me I wake up sometimes and see the curtains blow dust in the wind all thoughts I’ve spent shaming me I wake up and dream of the unfettered sheen of a well made bed
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May 22, 2017
May 22, 2017 at 9:48 PM UTC
Well made bed
drenched and slapped on the solid hunch of a man colors eking out of each pore spilling in crooked zig zag lines along his contours the sun will evaporate my stain the wind will push me off this edge right back down on the solid hunch of a man colors eking out
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May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 9:19 PM UTC
drenched and slapped
These myths of enlightenment offend me I traipse around the dull rhythm that has slithered in Like I’m trapping prey prey I can’t tell if it’s poison or swallow hole delicious whittled spears dragged nets traps in trees Waited months And i squeezed I can feel the heartbeat In its neck These myths of enlightenment offend me I’ve lured this beast grinning bullet wound still bleeding out My dead bodies hanging tethered Trigger ready, These myths of enlightenment offend me Transcendence is suicide
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May 8, 2017
May 8, 2017 at 9:08 PM UTC
These myths
face planted against the rushing wind of our spinning circle reactions in a reaction cluttering the ether The milky detritus Of our fathers and mothers and all the things they spent plummeting through space
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Jan 16, 2017
Jan 16, 2017 at 7:18 PM UTC
Untitled