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 Dec 8 Àŧùl
Flea
As I write 

I am not going to lie

As I have

Being suffering 

Since October 15, 2024

If wasn’t it just me that suffered

But everything in my life 

At that

The pain I am going through is similar to 

Rendition 

Guantanamo 

Or Abu giahib 

I am wish I was laying as this 

Is what grief will do to you 

Emotionally detain and torture you!
I’m lying beside my girl in bed
I brush my lips against her ear;
“Baby if the world was to end,
there’s nowhere I’d rather be then here.”
Safe and warm as if in a nest
bodies formed like puzzle pieces,
she’s got her head pressed to my chest
heart pounding and it increases.

In my arms; my world and my plans
when you have my heart in your hands.
Always like this, always together
with your kiss of bliss, you’ll be my air forever.

I’ve never been one to greet sunrise
I much prefer the still quiet of night,
but as long as I can look into your eyes
you’ll forever remain my favorite light.
Our laughter combines
and creates a symphony,
a perfect meshing of minds
and souls completed perfectly.

In my arms; all that I ever sought
when you own my words and every thought.
Always like this, always together
with your kiss of bliss, it can’t get better.

In my arms; my world and my plans
when you have my heart in your hands.
Always like this, always together
with your kiss of bliss, you’ll be my air forever.
I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate,
I already pulled at my hair.
“It’s normal” he says
I swear just to debate,
cause he doesn’t seem to care.

And I’m bleeding through
my scar tissued skin,
the layers only grew
still I find a way in.

I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate,
I’ll be down to the last strand.
Check or fold the plays,
the cards aren’t that great
I’ll be down the my last hand.

And I’m bleeding through
my thick nice sweater.
It’s a shame as it’s new
and we’re reaching the cold weather.
It will stain the soft fabric
I may just grab the bleach,
but I always made it a habit
to always keep it just out of reach.

I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate
pretty soon I’ll be bald.
On hot coals she stays,
though she shifts her weight
and watches her soles scald.

And I’m bleeding through
my clogged and blocked pores,
and the remaining few
are becoming septic sores.
I’ll shed another layer
of a non-protective bubble,
and my hair will continue to get greyer,
I think I’m now in some trouble.
Starting to feel my age…
MOONS OVER OAXACA

The pecking of the beak
The flapping of the magnificent span
Outlined on the fiery globe low in the horizon
Air of spring surrounds
Bright hued serapes holding in parched heat
Pyramid reaching Sun
Glued to lashes that dare not flicker
The drums of the Aztec moon pound
To cool tempers as they flail above the plateau of Oaxaca  
Ancient orange moon hovers long after
The feared sacrificial songs
Dawn of survival endured many moons
Those who witness history
Those who feel it retold
A thousand years hence
Never forget the brilliant paints and woven pigments
That cannot absolve sins of the Aztecs
The frightening beauty of the Moons over Oaxaca
 Dec 7 Àŧùl
Liana
What if I'm crazy too
What if I'm like him
And because of that
I don't realize I am

I mean
I know the tendency is genetic
And when you're sick
You don't even know it

He is a part of me
Either way
I had no choice
I was born that way

When I look in the mirror I see his eyes
And his nose
And his hair
I glare at them
A reminder that I'm stuck with him
no matter what I do he'll always be there

It makes me hate myself
When look and I see him in me

I don't want to look like him
I never want to make anyone feel the way he did to me
I don't want to be crazy and see the world blurry
I won't even know it if I am
Which is scary
Please don't also let me be crazy
(this note was written by a blueberry that was actually blue inside and not purple)
 Dec 7 Àŧùl
Steve Page
It only takes a small cut
  It only takes a soft word
in the right spot
  in the right ear
to sink deep
  to sink in
and scar for good.
  and bring healing.
Lessons from life.
To life,

Don’t take this as an angry note please but I’m out of this game. I won’t be scared to fail anymore. I know there will always be something not ok in here. For me that’s what it always has been like. I was called “too sensitive” or “weird” constantly. I tried to explain myself or situations in hope to make a difference. And I hope it shifted some little parts. I was always a part of something far beyond this place. The experience of life. On earth. But this game got me tired like I lived 3300 years instead of 33. I will turn 33 this February. If I make it. And if so I’m still out of the game. Because I’m following my own plan alone. No fears, no care. I’m beyond the caring about things. I will always care about people. Especially the ones who’s journeys have crossed mine and made it worth it. But this game ends for me. The challenges are over, I’m just existing here now. Making the best of it. That alone takes a lot. But that’s all I’m willing to bring to this world from now on. My best without caring so much about it being the best version. Just the version I am. And if that feels too wrong to be here I’ll be gone forever. Out of this game and out of this place for good because it doesn’t feel good. Even worse now. I’m feeling old, tired, worn out, not excited anymore. Thanks for all the things falling into place whenever they needed to. I appreciate it. I’ve noticed it. Thanks for the growth. But there’s been too much decay in me to stay here.

Sincerely,

Sharon
A.k.a Zeena and all the other versions and names before.
28-11-24
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