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J Fawn Apr 2018
Children  encased  in  steel  structures,  while  their  parents ­ stand,

Holding  metal  square  leashes, screens  glaring  white  while they

Idle,  shadows  of  their  faces  concealed  by  light,  while ­ teachers

Around  human  squares  circle.  A  student  watches  woody  tr­ees,

Roots  unseen,   branches  neatly  trimmed  like hedges,   no  leaves  

On  the  ground  below, but  shadows  cast  by  sunlit  branche­s. He

Sympathises  with  his  like,  both  in  a school and unseenly rooted,

Confined  to  a  square.  The  overflow  is  cut  to  fit, laid  bare, seen

Under  fluorescent   light,   blinding  whiteness  of  his  blank  script

Reflecting  nothing  of  shadows  he  collects  and  cultivates­,   hides,

Overflowing  from  the  broken  branches  that  he  keeps  in his bed.
Another fun experiment to write. (Okay so it’s only a square on a desktop browser) (and I guess emojis don’t work on here) *upside down smiley face*
J Fawn Apr 2018
I remember mostly vividly
two memories with you.

One when you told me
he would be my father
and I had to call him father.
But it was you, and you
were always right.

One when you saw me
and remembered my name
and I loved you in that moment.
Because you know many names, but you
still remembered mine.

I remember most fuzzily
memories that are mostly hearsay.

You carried me as a baby
You fed me and bathed me and clothed me and you
taught me wisdom in every action
and I
will never finish learning it all.

I remembered most vividly,
two memories with you.
But today it is

One more

when I saw you
and remember you loved me in every moment
and even as you will never see me again
and even as I will learn many names

I will remember yours.
Written at the funeral of a family friend. She was like a grandmother to me, and a great many other people.
J Fawn Apr 2018
the sound of
    scritching and
  creaking and cracking
                          hounds me
                   even if it is merely
                          echoes of thought
                      in the examination hall
where you promised that I would not
                                                                ­ fal
                                                             ­       ter

the sound of
  squeaking and
  clicking and clacking
                    surrounds me
                   even if it is surely
                     bellows of ambition
                    between the office walls
where you promised that I would not
                                                             ­      ter

                                                           ­        as I
                                                      at the edge
             where the whistling wind beckons
                   me to the chattering city below
                        I promise you that I will not

                                                            ­               fall
J Fawn Apr 2018
Shadows snake across the bed

trailing in the wake of your absence

crinkled and wrinkled the sheets of clay, your face

baked in the sun, nothing is hidden

your cup is dry, your essence drawn out of you

leaving behind brown, and

snakes of shadows.

— The End —