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Zywa 2d
Better not to count

on society or God --


Provide for supplies.
Novel "Two Years Eight Months & Twenty-Eight Nights" (which is 1001 nights, 2015, Salman Rushdie), chapter 2 "Mr Geronimo"

Collection "Low gear"
selina Feb 28
someone i know was stuck in singapore
when her father passed away in china
and lately, i think i've developed a fear
of flying, but for all of the wrong reasons

so while others' stomachs perform flips and
all the engines and babies incessantly whine
and while someone worries about their own death
i sit, wholly at peace with the possibility of mine

but still terrified for everything after you drop me off
i am so terrified to just board this plane and fly away
every time i have to turn and leave home again
i am terrified it will be the last time i see your face
selina Feb 28
according to einstein, time is relative
and by the law of jumping to conclusions
this means our lives are inconsequential

so technically, i could spend a forever in jail, or
you could spend a couple years in a hospital bed
and nothing would really matter all

relative to me, however,
one of these situations would be bearable
and the other not so much

i can live with my dumb decisions
like driving too fast for too long or
even ****** for a righteous cause, too

i can survive my self-destructive tendencies
but my world centers itself around you
a sister piece to "happiness (& related theories)"
selina Feb 28
while all the folks will be off beach-drinking
at ***** cana, or cartagena, or hiking through
a coast and helicoptering blindly into canyons,

i just want to be at home, cooking for you,
studying up new recipes, because i know you
pretend to like my chinese takes on western food

a little more than you actually do; you want me
to be happy, but my happiness stems from your
healing health and your returning appetite, so know:

a smile on your face and a happily-emptied plate
would beat the pride of reaching any himalayan peak
and warm my heart more than any southern sun or beach
a sister piece to "relativity (& related theories)"
If I were a painter
Every day, I know,
I'd paint you in colors,
Which will always glow.

If I were a sculptor
Working all alone,
I'd carve you a statue
From a precious stone.

If I were a potter
Bent over the wheel
I'd knead your soft body
With the greatest zeal.

If I were an angel
From the starry sky
I'd make you immortal
With my holy eye.

Yet, I'm just a plain man
With an honest view,
I can do no other,
But to care for you.
SANA Feb 26
how can i feel the care ..
when i am the one who always cares
and
should always be the one that cares
Zywa Feb 24
Keep carrying me

till you have to lay me down --


till I let you go.
Song "Carry me" (2023, Meskerem Mees), in the performance "Exit Above" (2023, Anne Teresa Keersmaker)

Collection "Em Brace"
Hawley Anne Feb 16
Before the sun starts to rise,
before the world awakes.
In the stillness of mornings quiet
thats where you'll find the pain.
Pain of things that you regret,
pain of days gone past.
But the worse pain of them all,
the pain of choices you can't take back.
The things you missed while you were high.
The memories you didnt make.
The little voice at 4 am, you never heard
saying "Mommy, are you awake?"  
The guilt of never being there,
through a feverish night.
The longing for being the only one,
who would make everything alright.
You wish that it was you at night
who scared the monsters away,
and got cuddles in the mornings.
Every single day.
On quiet mornings you wonder what,
would be happening right then.
If you weren't a drug addict?
How much noise would there have been?
You think of how you would go back
in time if only you could.
You wouldn't do the things you'd done.
Instead you'd do what you knew you should.
But the past is past now,
and your choices were made.
So now you sit on silent mornings
with nothing but the pain.
And the knowledge that both your kids,
call somebody else mom,
and how its all your fault because you know
exactly where you went wrong.
Jeremy Betts Feb 2
I'm forced to dam the tears
A practice made perfect through the rough years
Not because I don't care
Not because I can't care
Not because I don't want you to know they're always right there
But because if I let them begin to pour
I can't convince myself I could stop them anymore
There's a nonzero chance I could be crying for years
Long past the pain and far beyond the fears
So I **** the tears

©2024
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