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Scratch the itch from the poison of modernity
in the tapestry of culture as it contrasts and conflicts
in gentrified decay; where UV is cast into stone
as it crumbles to the sound of archaic rhythm.

Only some of the clock hands refuse to turn
to allow different splinters of time to converge.
as others idle by propelled by contemporary euphoria;
grinding on ages already passed.

Mechanisms of time fragment in the sound of simplicity,
relics are no longer held in memory
but carved in hieroglyphs,
worn into cobblestones of interchangeable streets
all leading to a history which repeats.
written after a mini adventure on the streets of a perplexingly quaint town.
Each lacerating scar is a new engravement
which becomes more than we’ll ever be.
A definition of the synergy between fate and cruelty.

Shallow graves tease us
beckoning us to crawl inside
to be comforted by the silence
imagining our bones as dust
allowing our minds to fade out of focus
the static drowning out every
twist of the knife-
by our own hand that told us we were worthless.

But there’s beauty in misery
not in our reflection
but in the eyes who hold the keys to all the doors
you’re too scared to open
until someone pushes you through
bringing you to life, in ways you always dreamt to live
until you forget all of the reasons you want to die.
I used to think that perfection didn't make sense
so I built a fence around my senses
and kept you inside
there was nowhere to hide from your judgement
it rained down upon me, as you pretended we meant something
you wanted to be the architect of my misery
the lies let you pretend you cared
but nothing between us was ever shared
only given
only taken.
Expectation masquerades as appreciation
but, this was never about me-
take away the pedestal
because in the end, it was about you,
you and your indignance at the rigidity of my desire;
my reluctance to embrace a synthesised version of ****.
Still, you gained my trust over the years
searching for a vulnerability
only to find the last shred of hope in a fetishizing humanity
as I await the next wave of languished salacity.
I’ll let you all fall away,
I never gave you reason to stay;
it never belonged to you.
I belong to an idea
a dream
so ubiquitous
it encompasses me
with malleability
instead of encasing me.
I come, but I never have to leave
I’m exactly who I want to be
encased in the sacrosanct vulnerability
subjugated under the lock that never needed a key.
Chase the chaos
embrace it
wrap both thighs around it
until it screams a name you recognise
and replies
with rhythmic fury
coursing through the contortions
spinning on carousels of shame and regret.
Flesh over fiction
validation over volition
find the angle
to carve desire,
find the curve,
to contort the insatiable itch
seared by the rapacity
of modernity.

We transcended commodity,
we're free,
not in sense of liberty
the shackles still remain
but our worth diminished.
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