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Jun 24
I see the lunes sliced out by angel eyes from the aether,
Longstanding inertia flipping through history's pages

I exist for the sole purpose of satisfaction,
So watch stigma grow in concentric rings of blood
That make you think he must have done something to deserve a good headshot.

Selfish, selfish, selfish...
That's all I am, right?
And you stand silent in the form of a steadfast willow
But there was an angel somewhere around who said,
"Go away!"

This is so embarrassing
But we stitched it closed and I flirted with a saprophyte:
Hello little friend
What have they called you,
And what science have you been radiating into our minds?

I can't escape my own gravity, though
And I pull at the fine fabric of grace,
Making angels cry.

Why does it seem like you're so right
When you look at me that way?
No one is looking at you any way!
Or, I see what you mean, I do
But it can't explain this to itself

You will give it to me more directly than that, sure
But I promise you it will make no more sense than this!
You'll disagree.

But there were autumn leaves and firefly shows
Thoughts in between thoughts that supposed they were at least on a spectrum
Rainbows in polluted puddles
And wondering if I'm actually helping but being glad to be able to wonder it,

There were thoughts about satisfaction,
And what if there was only one thing,
And how satisfied would it be with itself?
How would it feel about itself, and how are things accomplished?
There were beautiful canine heroes
And fathers of heath and hardwood,
Imbued within the gilded conscience of everything,
I was so beautiful, and I did give heed to the dark corners
And I loved the dark corners
And the dark corners will never admit that I loved them but I did,
I tried, my heart went out to them
It will never be enough! And then I realized it's me

There were great songs I wrote but I did not need their approval,
I was beautiful inside too, with a curious heart and active imagination,
I was not ugly inside like you have said and will probably say again,
I was actually beautiful,
And I was extremely intelligent,
Though you might draw lines around me that make 100% sense,
You will see me as small when I say,
"I understand everything, though!"
But I actually do, and intelligence is a quality I've been endowed with
I am one of the Great Philosophers of Time,
I'm just saying, you seem to continually want to characterize me as average and unimpressive
But just in my own mind I want to emphasize how brilliant I am
The doubters and naysayers are just emergent trash
I only listen to the realities that serve me
And that is intelligent of me, especially if I'm aware of certain properties of the universe!
But I do not expect validation, because, well, duh, it has to be that way
See? Your disapproval (of me) is so stupid! I'm laughing at it

Unless, that is, I am equivalent to your circumstances of poverty
Sometimes the circumstances are bleak
Maybe because all I can do, in a version of the truth, is take
And so in that case I would say I can't help it and I legitimately am sorry
I am not laughing at that person but you can see how this can get complicated
But anyway........

You are not your own mother
There is a real person who loves you
You don't have to face that yet,

There were rivers of beautiful people all so full of love
And we don't know what happened but sometimes they experienced really horrible things
And they had to hold one another accountable,
Which was extremely hard to do but at least they tried, oh, at least they tried
Yes it was so ugly and it makes me want to cry.
Trying anything, as it turns out, is not just difficult but quite impossible
Yes I know I tried things but you have to kind of squish them away from the whole thing to get anything out of it,
And it doesn't want to stay that way because it's all tethered and stuff

Laurels, laurels, laurels.

Passing through laurels and Indian cucumber-root.

You don't even realize what you're saying.

Yes I do, I've read her rants on facebook, that's all this is.
It's funny how I don't realize I'm looking at myself with a cocked head, that's a mocked head. Oh, you're such an enigma.

Laurels, laurels, laurels.

Laurels and bear corn. Trilliums and pink lady slippers. Wood nettle and bryophytes. My thoughts are like Ramaria time lapsing into a dry spell. I start learning things but I'm burning a candle at both ends. You can be an expert on subjects, but I have some sort of disadvantage that I can't escape. And I even understand what's going on with that aspect, but it is a great frustration. It's weird because of the omni-tension, like the squishing thing I was describing earlier, it causes me to want to be something I can't, I guess it has something to do with Lilith, but I will always round out to be something I accept as pretty **** good, but then I have to let it go.
Written by
Sometimes Starr  Another place
(Another place)   
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