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Because you're magnificent
A creature made by humans
But designed by god
Winged pharoah
Of a desolate facade
 Apr 2019 Charlotte Cullen
RJP
I'm trying to balance a bottle on my head
As I lay in bed with my stolen red
At first it's easy, it stays there peacefully
Resting in comfort above my brow
But now it's beginning to slip
The liquid shakes and falls on my face
 Apr 2019 Charlotte Cullen
RJP
Look!
 Apr 2019 Charlotte Cullen
RJP
Look a magpie!
See it fly!
But wait!
    What's that thing in the sky?
    The clouds are heaving moody
    And the stars are begging
        To die.
It hurts to breathe, can’t see can’t write can’t read
    Just let be,
        And we’ll be together again
        In Eternity.
It's about poetry
her skin is jaundiced, quite like the color of the sky before a storm
if you look at her long enough you can almost smell the rain on her skin.
her ribs are not unlike the rungs of a ladder.
once delicate fingers have been burned at the touch of acid and bones have been made brittle.
her nails are jagged, each impacted with crescent moons of soil.
the digging is ceaseless.
she is searching for something she will never find, something that beacons like a lighthouse on the horizon
a sign of safety but blinding when you try to take a closer look.
she slinks along the edge of an unremitting chasm,
dancing with the devil throughout the evening,
but the night draws on and she comes dangerously close to stepping on his toes.
her rhythm is wrong, the metronome is feeding her lies,
but she is greedy and devours them all.
the gnawing inside her returns.
to sleep she goes, under the spell of the guilt washing over her like the sweet, sticky air of the summer, as the gnawing inside takes over.

— The End —