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Stepping
In and out
Of what's real

Dream state
Déjà vu
And repetition

And it feels like
I could predict the very near
future if I could focus
Yes, that's what I would have said!
But I was slow

Fading
Tenderly
Leaving traces

Ghostly
Echoing
Tails of mermaids

And it seems their song broke my mind
And I have swum here only to find
That they wanted to drown me

And eat my heart
Watercolour,
Two tears of rain-

Coppered silk dissolves,
Hanging over time.

If Fuji remains
Tell me when

She is a bubbling crater
Steaming lake, fisher,
Cormorant
And all
You went away and never came back
Leaving your wound on my wing
Stigmatizing my love's *****
What a strange dame you became
Ditching the turf of trust
Though I've gotten over you
My heart still longs for your fashion
Your flawless kisses contriving passion
Your charm knew how to play with
And tug at my heartstrings
Knew how to take me
To the outpost of frenzy
Now I'm left in a fit of pique
Recuperating from rays of link
Wherever you are whatever you doing
I have no idea
But I'm constantly involved
In the scope of viewing
How you fled without a sign
Without reason or rhyme
Were you ashamed or outright cold
Was your love diving
Or calculatingly conniving
Either way you left me steamless
To carry the wound
To carry the tempest of the mood.
If I rewrite the narrative,
make you say things you’d never-
it hurts a little bit less.

If I picture you sending my screenshots,
laughing with your friends
about how I’m pathetic,
it hurts a little bit less.

If I melt the candy coating off your words
and read them as they are,
my chest doesn’t feel as hollow.
The pages rinse free of hope,
replaced with finality.

If I say it was just a game,
and now I have to log out-
close the window, shut it down,
you’ll never log back in.

My lungs can fill with air again,
My eyes remain dry.
This grief stops sitting on me,
I can stop wondering why.

You’ll always be
my favorite book I picked up-
but maybe you were one
I was never meant to read.
I wish I hadn’t stitched you into all of my fabric.
There’s nothing to do that keeps you off my mind.
You are everywhere and nowhere all at once-
like a ******* ghost seeping into all my rhymes.
Pastel sky’s and whistling trees
My disconnect and memories

Melanie Munoz
Blow smoke cross borders.
All of humanity's problems stem
From a man's inability to sit
Quietly in a room alone
Well if those words were true
I'd be a king
Upon a throne
But quantity is not quality
Besides there is no enterography
From the inside
To the outside
That gets shown
Pascal wrote that opening
In the mid sixteen hundreds
It's been quoted cameoed
And inspected
It invites you to do
What it says you can't
Irrespective.
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