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 Apr 10 Thirty Nine
Kate
You can’t eat money.
Not when every river has dried up. Not when every tree has burned, its ashes coating the sky—when our children think it’s snow.
Not when the world is too hot to inhabit. When our scarred bodies bear the marks of explosions nearby.
You can’t eat money.
Not when our teeth have fallen from the radiation.
Not when our fingers are gone, our brains decimated—our regret the only thought we have left:
How did we let this happen?
not when it’s all that is left.
I'm sorry I let go.
I know I promised, its just

We were the wild children,
Never where the adults needed us to be,
For the world was our playground.

We were one,
Joint at the hip.
I thought that we would never get lost as long as we stayed together.
But as the illusion of childhood dissolved, so did you.

You used to look up to face the adventures of the day,
But eventually your head grew heavy with the foreign disease
And you could only stare down at your shoes,
And then you couldn't even lift it off your pillow.

I didn't understand why you no longer wanted to explore.
You told me you were tired.
But how, if you were always in bed?
I was told that you were sick.
But I thought fevers and colds left with rest and time?

I waited for you,
Sat at your bedside,
Missed out on my own adventures with the hope of more with you once you got better.

But you never got better.

I know that I told you,
Promised that I would follow you to the ends of the Earth.
But as your heart hardened and your mind wandered,
I no longer could find you inside yourself,
And there was no one left to follow.

Thats why I let go.
You were sinking, drowning,
And I couldn't too lose myself in your Mariana Trench.
Oooh… Phew!

One and 1 are indeed different
from each other, right?

One is a word, and the other is a number.

Yet, when I am not visible, no one sees that I exist separately.
 Feb 15 Thirty Nine
Liana
Little girl wondering and wandering
This beautiful and treacherous world
Learning
And observing

She's a sponge
Unfortunately
The water was polluted
By the careless
And manipulative
By her own blood

Is that why she picks her skin off now?
To see him come out of her?
Trying to squeeze out
Little by little
Her pain?

She knows better ways too
For she walks
Dances in to the night
And reaches out for the stars
They heal her

She cries
She needs to release


I think she has wings
Will she notice?
And when she does
Will she dare to fly?
Where will she go?

I hope she wont fly alone...
(this note was written by a rocksicle because I like them better)
 Feb 12 Thirty Nine
birdy
like the moon
I wait for the someone else’s light
to shine
 Feb 8 Thirty Nine
Raffael
not sheltered by delusions

oppressed by the truth

free
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