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 May 2019
Ed C
I want to break the tiny bones
in my fingers and crunch my hands
into crumples of blood and skin.
I want to break all of my possessions,
I want to shatter glass and crunch it
into tiny shards with my palms.
I want to cause a collision,
to run my car into another,
to watch matter bend and implode.
I want to hear the echo of inconvenience,
to discomfort and dishearten.
I want to set the world on fire
and to reciprocate the feeling of contempt
I hold with a tight grip.
I am having an annoying existence
 May 2019
Ed C
It's a strange thing to look inside yourself
and see darkness, black oil bubbling
with animal feathers floating,
drowning  in the thick.
I feel like a well, with nothing but depth
with no one to pull me out, no rope
to even hang myself with.
When you sit in the darkness
with wings too sticky to fly out
you see faces and reflections
that take your mind and stretch it
into unrecognizable shapes.
I am stuck in the oil
of my compressed stress.
I have been having incredibly dark thoughts

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