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arin Dec 2022
how can the burn of bile
make me fearful
yet satisfied
i will remain in denial
that i prefer illness
over bliss
arin Nov 2022
a constant stream of ink
stories upon stories told
and long forgotten by the author
twenty one : seemingly young
yet it already feels close to done
because even permanent marker
can eventually be wiped away
this life doesn't have a sense of
ownership ; it is not fully mine
and this puzzle was started
by someone else
arin Nov 2022
no longer a poet
or a muse / simply
an inoperable tumor
/party tattoos and
crushed cigarettes
one/ done / fast /repeat
i'm cold and tired
#ed
arin Oct 2022
boiling streams of magma
run through my volcanic veins
my planetary core
bubbles to the surface
i cannot stop
pouring out
arin Nov 2021
i wish i could go up to that roof in detroit
up the 73 floors to top
i can only imagine the view
how the wind will feel going down
but that’s too much of a mess
too public, i don’t want to bother anyone
so i’ll dress my best like a princess
and fantasize of flower fields
blooming with new life in spring
and pretty pills for pretty girls
that make them sleep forever
only having sweet dreams
no dragons, no thorns

i wonder if they’ll find me
if i go, i’ll miss you
arin Jun 2021
i wish that i could write
i wish that i had words worth value
there's simply nothing i can say
that i haven't already said
so i wish for something new
something to write about
something to remember
something as a reminder
why i need to keep living
arin Nov 2019
skin bean bag chairs are sliced and emptying
the rocking chair of bones creak and splinter
hot tubs filled crimson and boiling
organs in the office soon to be fired
small home in absolute shambles
this is the best it's been in years
although seen obscene
it's the war between
survival
and
revival
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