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letters to basil Jul 2020
dear atlas,

don't forgive,
just forget.

love,
atlas
you don't owe them ****. i love you.

07.26.2020
basil Apr 2020
reggae music
and vegetables
crying alone
misspelling my own name
losing time; losing space
weeds growing in cement cracks
dried paint, beginning to peel
scorching sun
uneven breathing

and not being able
to fathom my words
into anything
with a purpose
*** this has been in my drafts since april....

how is it still accurate as ****..?

uhmm. anyway, hope you're well <3
In supposition
she'd laid her hand in mine and
her palm felt Fate retch
b for short Dec 2017
Twenty-nine belts bravery from a bottle.
It feels like all talk and no game.
Twenty-nine has thighs that don't lie
and a finger that motions you
to come closer.
It relearns each facet of love
and finds beauty in its own reflection.
Twenty-nine betters the invention
instead of reinventing it.
It imagines kissing strangers to feel alive and
gifts the pearl to the jewel thief
with no words- only smiles.
Twenty-nine strikes a match
in the middle of a pitch black nowhere,
only to see the smoke twist up and away.
It cracks and hisses when it feels its been forgotten.
It smells like pine needles, orange peel, and sun bleached cotton.
Twenty-nine forgets those who have forgotten it
but thanks them for the lessons.
It likes church but only for the music, architecture, and sociology.
Twenty-nine won't apologize for passion or pity,
but it will drip with empathy at inopportune times.
Twenty-nine steeps itself in scalding water
only to discover its true flavor.
It finds no comfort in the opinions of others
but will only rest at the signal of a nod of approval.
Twenty-nine looks down into the neverending
and can't decide if it wants to jump or run.
It handstitches a parachute
as it dangles one foot over the edge,
says a prayer to no god
but writes hymns that bring tears.
Twenty-nine keeps breathing.
It keeps breathing.
Crimsyy Aug 2017
29 messages
to realize all the wasted time,
one explosion
and you go take your faults,
make them mine,
Oh dear you knew
I planned to stay until the end.

But I won't compromise
my boundaries anymore,
I'm not just a vessel you cherish
when you wish to pour,
Now I'll be the one
to close this door,
No I no longer care to be yours.

And I won't regret
the truth that I said
Couldn't keep your
ego satisfied,
left your bitterness unfed.

You asked me to go away,
I'm sorry I couldn't
fill up your plate,
but my voice is
something you'll never take.

You asked me to go away,
maybe we do belong
in separate lanes,
but you're gonna end up lonely
with that sourness in your veins.
Solaces Nov 2014
I was under for only 29 minutes..
And yet I lived a life of 67 years..
I was on the planet Earth..
I had a beautiful family and a beautiful life..
It was on my final days..
I had a visit from ghost of my past..
At least I thought they were ghost..
Turns out they were messengers..
Beautiful memories of others for me to remember..
Turns out Earth had been destroyed over 2000 years ago..
However we are provided to live one cycle there..
To remember where we came from..
To remember her in all her glory..
I awake truly 67 years later 29 minutes under..
I remember them so fondly..
My family..
I miss them..
We are scattered among the stars now..
Looking for a new home..
29 minutes, 67 years

— The End —