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Foogle 2d
until your today
bleeds into your yesterday
there is no spark,
there is no connection.
there stands only the dry
and the tethering affliction:
we hold onto until
the day buries the night away.
Foogle Apr 26
melancholic mosquitos
pin my arms like dot points
as the sun descends to uncover
oblivion
reversely illuminated in all of its
opposite glory

melancholic children
ride in car backseats under bright streetlights
they try to hunt for
oblivion
reversely illuminated in all of its
opposite glory
Foogle Apr 24
do you notice the connotations
everywhere on the plastered walls?
they’re silent and creeping like
eyes looming on a pendulum
Foogle Apr 18
i search a lie for the silver lining
i pry the silver lining for perfection
i tackle the perfection with the deception
of the empty person
who is interlaced with the coercion
of the fear that made their power possible

for canyons cannot be crossed in the dark
without a beating heart scared enough to run across

i weave into lines to tackle them into oblivion
i eye onto waves and pierce them into obsidian

we shatter glass
for we are tired of making sense
Foogle Apr 18
our autumn fizzles                                               we're losing our mind
away into the winter                                            but in the sharp night
and the beckoning mirage                                   there it stands;
it begins to splinter                                               the subtle light
Foogle Apr 13
"the freeway from here, can you hear it?"
              
                                                 ­             "...it sounds like an artificial river."
"its always on."
Foogle Apr 11
“what’s your favourite shape?”
                            
                               “I don’t know, what’s the shape
                                               of you?”
something i think about
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