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Oculi
Poems
Dec 2020
The Non-Cognitive Aspects of Me
The smell of burnt hair.
Pyre, made of autumn leaves.
A sound beyond hearing.
Metal, bending and twisting.
One eye, but not the other.
One ear and two more.
Lines, straight lines.
No curves, no wrinkles.
Do you hear it?
Can you see it?
A fire you can't put out.
Burning ice like a thunderous cloud.
#mythology
#psychology
#depression
Written by
Oculi
23/F
(23/F)
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