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morseismyjam Jun 10
Summer fills me with nostalgia in a way that I cant explain. But when the air hears up and the black ants crawl all over our house I find myself remembering when we covered the window with sheets so we could sleep when it was still light.

Most years I was alone, friends not good enough to contact outside of school.
I stayed up late in bed reading every night. It was during summer that I stumbled on my first podcast, on my first ****** novel, on my first question of gender.
In the heat of summer I sought change. Alone, I struggled with questions of college and career and the future. I despaired, sobbing into my pillow until I fell asleep.

Summer is full of possibility, of the past, of the future.
I caught fireflies out on the lawn, I put cicada husks in a jar and kept a tally, I invented games for myself and my sisters. I work late nights and come home to a warm house. I eat cereal for 3 meals a day.
The rules don't apply to Summer.
morseismyjam Apr 15
Little glass axolotl perfect
shades of pink and orange.
Found him at the thrift store
brought him home &
shone him up with some  
windex and a cotton cloth.
Now he sits on the shelf  
and sometimes I pick him  
up to marvel at the smoothness  
of his back, and the perfectly formed gills  
at the sides of his head.
My little glass axolotl  
is one of the things that
pulls me through papers  
with his tiny smile and  
teensy toes. This is love caught in
silica and pigment. Yes this
is what love is.
I wrote this for a creative writing class this winter. I like it and think it's cute
morseismyjam Apr 12
i spent
the afternoon on the
lawn in a clover patch
plucking the 4th leaf off

because last month
was so clouded
and i shone too bright

too gaudy

but now i'm here
fixing these little *******
taking their 4th
leaving 3

increasing their chance of survival
like i did with that worm
on the sidewalk this morning
i
picked her up and
hurled her into grass and
I didn't look back.

sometimes salvation is violent.
eat this **** up you ******* emos
morseismyjam Mar 18
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Are some of these BONEs human? Maybe...
It goes on anything, Savoury, sweet...
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It comes in 5 cool colors: white, grey, light grey, [REDACTED], and blorb,
Each with its own unique BONE-y flavor!
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BONE SALT: the taste of the future.

The only taste.

No life, no death, only ΒΟΝΕ.
This was inspired by this polygon video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s9Yq8FGO3ek
Credit where credit is duel.
morseismyjam Aug 2020
The noise builds all around me
the sun comes bouncing in,
2 hours of sleep
5 cups of coffee
and I sit waiting to begin

The ticker-tape keeps running
while the record spins
5 months to go
1 person shut-in
and they are trying to begin.

I sit here and I contemplate on all my recent big mistakes
since I like to procrastinate I'm quite deserving of this fate
And so I tap my pencil faster I don't know quite what I'm after
All I know is that this chapter of my life ends in disaster!

My mind does tarantella
my concentration thins
1 new idea
12 words per hour
and I can't make myself begin
Oh, how do I begin?
Yeah, I need some time management.
morseismyjam Jun 2020
I'm sorry, I'm not who you believe I am,
I'm sorry that what you know's not true.
I love you, and I don't wanna let you down;
don't wanna let you see the pieces,
the shambles of my life.

I'm functional when you're around,
my problems hidden 'neath the rug,
under the chair.
I'm functional when you're around,
but I crumble when you're not there.

My papers are scattered all around my room,
My dishes are piled on the floor,
I can't sleep cause the nightmares keep on comin'
And by day I'm just so tired,
and ready to give in.

But I'm functional when you're around,
my problems hidden 'neath the rug,
under the chair.
I'm functional when you're around,
but I crumble when you're not there.

I know that you'd care about the mess I've made.
I know that you'd wanna help me through.
You love me, but I'm so ashamed of this,
you can't see these tangled threads here,
I cannot let you in.

So I'm functional when you're around,
my problems hidden 'neath the rug,
under the chair.
I'm functional when you're around,
but I crumble when you're not there.

but I crumble
when you're not
there.
sad song. I wrote this months ago and hadn't perfected it. Turns out bad spells of mental health aren't good for writing poetry, contrary to what one expects.
morseismyjam May 2020
Oh darlin' you think too much of me
I ain't sensitive
I ain't steady
I ain't kind
and I ain't somethin' to be tamed

I like you in my own way
but my bones ache to wander the wide empty prairie
which frightens you
but thrills me to the depth of my soul.

I don't got your morals
and I sure as hell ain't gettin' 'em soon
you can't hold me down
but have some faith sugarplum:

I'll come back to you.
where did this come from? was I briefly possessed by a cowboy with a broken heart?
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