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Angel Aug 4
Freckled window
With touches of orange
Purple & grey skies
So close
The air feels thick
As if the world is still
For only a moment
The sky snaps with life
rumbles with such grace
As if it’s known since
The beginning of time
exactly what to do to make
Me feel
Angel Jun 29
It was there again
I mean
It came to me again
With a slow numbness
N grip on the throat
Weight on my chest
& shake of my head
It was all there again
Once again
It’s got me
This time it was terrifying
Because I’d have lived
For longer this time
So this time it felt like
Instead of comfort
Angel Jun 10
I wish the words flowed more smoothly without the help
Without the help
Without the help
Of sin
I feel as though I feel too much but it’s very particular when it comes to the time in which I grasp the right words. That’s painful
  Jun 10 Angel
I want to write about what hurts because I think it will
Stop me from hurting. If I put these words on
A page then they will be easier to digest.
Poetry isn't curative by creation, it is
Just confession. Still, these remedial
Lines are what I turn to when I am holding
Too much in my hands. Right now, I feel
Like I am overflowing onto the ground below me.
For the first time,
I don't want to write about what hurts. I want
To keep it inside of me and let it burn me. I want
To carry it in my palms for as long as I can.
I should write
About how we've said goodbye so
Many times that it turned into a threat, a weapon
We made with our tongues.
I should write
About how I lied and got away with it,
How you got caught with
Your hands tied and no one to blame.
I should write
About how it was over before we waved the white
Flag, and I know what it means now
To hold onto a sinking ship.
I've never had anything to die for.
I should write about how I've never wanted
Something so much that I devastated it completely.
We loved in harsh conditions, under sun and darkness and
I don't know how to write about how
The love didn't save us.
I don't write about letting go as much as I write about
Holding on, and I want
That to change.
I don't want to write hurt just to feel it.
The next poem I write about you will be
About me. About how I held on and how I let go.
It won't be about your love, it will be about
Mine. It won't stop me from hurting, but
It is how I make it out
Of my love alive.
Angel Jun 5
& the day carries on
& the earth continues to turn but
not without a storm
the universe crying out for your existence
Angel Jun 4
What’s to say you will know?

The fiery being you are detests to your celestial existence

Forever a delusion
What have I transpired?
Angel May 10
The comparison of such dejection
Makes me feel as though I am not one
But two or many or all
To feel prototypical is an oddity in itself but I need distinction to find comfort in being astral
I want to feel authentic
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