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  Feb 2018 Chloe
kelly rai
high on the plant
that grows out of the soil
reaching far against the turmoil
the turmoil called life
the turmoil called death
fist to fist on an endless fight
  Feb 2018 Chloe
Duzy
No one can know your pain
Not nearly as well as yourself
But the rope won't take it away
It just gives it to someone else
Chloe Feb 2018
are the shadows that hang under your tired eyes,
indicative of the shadows clouding your tired soul?

or can I tell from the way you hang your dreams
up on the coat-rack by the entryway
to fall into an empty slumber?

the rain that falls through an open window
onto your cheeks- a replacement for what you cannot shed

empty grievances rattle around in your empty heart
loud clanging muted and muffled from
the stuffing in your mind
Sometimes it's easier to be empty than to be full of pain. Emotions are a heavy thing to bear, even if they bring butterflies to your stomach, or make you feel like you're walking on the clouds.
Chloe Feb 2018
from insomnia

I am a Time Wizard
and I mould the minutes as I please.
It is at night that my magic happens
when I lie awake in bed
counting the minutes until I fall asleep
- or has it been hours?

I am a Time Wizard
but only without the presence of a screen;
a face that counts the seconds as they
trickle by in increasing increments
a constant that runs inconsistently
In the corridors of my ceaseless mind.

I am a Time Wizard
and there is only so much I can do.
The trails of my thoughts and imaginings
slip between my fingers like liquid
Oh- if only I could gather them like how
the hours coalesce until my eventual rest.
written while half asleep, time is a construct but my perception of it needs a metronome to keep it constant
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