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Gabriel Winthrop Mar 2015
Playful is my stride
the tapping of the ground
is music to my ears.
Gabriel Winthrop Jan 2015
What are we really accomplishing in this industrial life? I can feel my breaths weaken with each tree that falls to make another **** credit card. Company smoke bins that make Boulder smell and taste of ****. What is our outcome? Humanity is at a dead end. We're neurotic and ignorant. Stuck in a one-up manship to egotistic means. And we'll only get better at it. At justifying it.
Gabriel Winthrop Jan 2015
All my friends invite me over to hang out, I have no ****** idea why. All they do is leave me at their house, so they may go have *** with their girlfriends, and go out for a nice lunch. Every last one of them. I'll wallow in my abandonment and go home, every time, leaving our friendship further, and further apart.
Gabriel Winthrop Jan 2015
contrived poets,
mimicking writers,
aspiring endlessly.
Gabriel Winthrop Jan 2015
I'd rather
listen to the sound
of a mellow brooke
than a complex symphony.
I have a soft eye for the mountains
over renaissance art.
I like the course chip of bark
over a silk sewn table cloth.
Gabriel Winthrop Jan 2015
My heart beats
to the tick of my hair
the pounding of my thumbs
the intervals of my breath
'till I switch this life
for everlasting death.
Gabriel Winthrop Jan 2015
I wish I were a white flower
not a green one.
I wish I had a knit sweater,
please, the ugly one.
I wish I had a love,
anyone.
I wish I had a bowl of soup

to drown my wishing thoughts.
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