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littlebrush Jan 5
Compose, wave your arms at the streams of the orchestra sounds-
sway, lead, be lead, 
swoon yourself at the glorious sound 

Awaken to the sudden silence, the loss of a reverie
There are no spotlights here,
there is no audience, no members,
no instruments. 

The empty chairs sit in the dark, 
as your gaze empties. 
Stand, still, stare.
littlebrush Apr 2020
I think I found the answer when I swung my head back and looked at the ceiling,
******* drunk, and no one to text.
littlebrush Apr 2020
it could've been me in your smoke,

somewhere in the baby cries in your home.

I see her and I see me,

could have laid down the necklace my aunt gave me,
could have taken the ****

could have, in the smoke and in the clouds,
cried in your home.
littlebrush Feb 2020
At the bottom of the bottle
my own warped face-- the glass,
eyes that reflect 2014 for what it was

the bottle-neck becoming mine 

At the bottom of the barrel
I find words for poetry, words for me. 

At the bottom of it all I can see.
littlebrush Feb 2020
at the end of the bottle,
I find the few embers of what the past held for me. 
a happy childhood

at the end of the bottle,
I find a few cracks of what the end looks like for me, 
and the picture is kaleidoscope,
the solar system looks like glitter from this end, 

and I know this is my end,
I look up and see the shards and see the glistening and the sparks
like a toddler who is amazed, 
who is amazed during their very,
very happy childhood.
hi it's me and I'm drunk again
littlebrush Jan 2020
Im putting him in a box where i cannot like him
Where he has no hands
to titter tatter, pieces, scatter—

Im putting him in a box where he cannot falter

Never, never again.
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