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Rj Apr 1
Gasoline, babies, musty AC
Lilacs, earth when it rains
Smoke from a wood burning stove at night,
Memories, all of them claim
They say smell is the most powerful thing
To take you back to a place or a time
And though I have loved all of the above
I know which I want most in my mind
To fall asleep with you on my chest
Your head in the pit of my arm
Legs entangle, arms so heavy
Butterflies in my chest start to swarm
For the most potent smell,
The most wonderful smell
That takes me to a safe place
Is the smell of your breath, your cheeks your lips
The smell of your soft sleeping face
The slow rise and fall of your chest at night
Already my racing thoughts slow
With you on my side and your breath on my face
The warmth in me continues to grow
Rj Apr 1
run run run
The trees blur by
The sky is dark and grey
The leaves are bright
Though barely light
And branches all in sway
run run run*
Your hair sticks to your face
The thorns tear at your legs
Your feet sink into the ground
But you continue to run
It’s been weeks since the sun
And your heart has begun to pound
run run run
It’s been days since you left
The forest is moving
You’ve lost every concept of time
You collapse into dirt
Your muscles all hurt
And you rot back into the slime
  Apr 1 Rj
Claudia Tapia
Silence engulfs my surroundings as I become lost in the numbing screams of my mind. It wanders to places I don't want to go.
Day 18 of quarantine and I am starting to fall back into old ways.
Rj Mar 30
What if the most poetic thing I’ll ever write is my own suicide note?
It’s a reflection. I don’t know. It seems like I can only ever write when it’s about the darkest thing so this logically makes sense. I’m not actively suicidal
  Mar 30 Rj
Stained Glass
The version of me you created in your mind is not my responsibility.
  Mar 30 Rj
Styles
I want to spread your legs
across my sheets
like waves across a beach
and get you wet enough
for me to dive on in
until the depths of you
I reach.
Rj Mar 30
You wake up and the earth feels like it’s spinning slower
Or maybe the earth is spinning just fine and you’re moving slower
Or maybe the earth is spinning and you’re not part of it

You wake up and the weight of your own body is enough to pull you into the earth’s core

You wake up and your chest feels smaller,
Your breath feels stale and you can’t seem to find fresh air

The distractions fade out and when they become background noise, it’s just you:
You in this bed
You in this room
You in this house on this lot
You in this town in this state
You in this mass of land split by oceans
You in this earth
It’s just you

Being alone is no fun at all
Being alive is...
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