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glass Jul 31
sitting in sun past locked windowed doors
wrist tendon tensioned from trying tagging for the first time
sometimes it pulls at my sleeve and i cannot predict when it will be, but at least it doesnt drag me like it used to
merely quietly suggesting to tentatively assume that it is true -
and i feel it striking down, rolling over skin, curling at the edge
but i will not give in
glass Jul 31
patience demanded now
it couldve been worse but i wasnt sure -
looking, and my thoughts are not current
and im sorry and im scared and is it worth it

unsatiated crown
cutting off, its all i know
the only thing i can control
and i worry and i falter
because all thats in my palms are stones
in my deepest
i found the
weight i carried
float away
from me
and now
i can finally
Nihl Jun 1
I emerged as the middle son of a resolute military family—a nomadic existence bereft of any fixed abode to call my own. No town or state bears witness to the imprint of my childhood, for I have been consigned to the liminal spaces, perpetually suspended between homes. It is an accursed experience, fraught with the ache of belonging nowhere, and yet, it bestows upon me unexpected offerings.

The bonds of friendship, woven through the thread of shared memories from childhood, elude my grasp. There are no cherished recollections etched upon the walls of a familiar dwelling, no nostalgic imprints of camaraderie nurtured through the passage of time. Instead, I traverse the vast expanse of existence as an eternal outsider, a wayfarer devoid of a place to call my own.

And yet, from this tempestuous journey of perpetual transience, there have been a few select gifts bestowed upon my nomadic soul. A unique charisma courses through my being—a bittersweet manifestation of my transient nature. It is a magnetism that dances on the periphery of attention, challenging the captivation of others with its fleeting essence. Like a passing zephyr, my presence tantalizes but eludes, leaving behind an ephemeral imprint upon those who chance upon my path.

In the ebb and flow of a life unmoored, I have come to cherish the transient beauty that accompanies impermanence. Like the fleeting bloom of a wildflower, I embody the essence of transience, embracing the delicate fragility of the present moment. It is within these ephemeral spaces that I find solace, for I have learned to embrace the inherent impermanence that weaves through the tapestry of existence.

Though I yearn for the stability of rootedness, I have discovered the gifts hidden within the nomadic rhythm of my life. The absence of a fixed abode has granted me a fluidity of perspective, a capacity to adapt and acclimate to the ever-changing landscapes that unfold before me. I have learned to find solace in the transient connections I forge along the way, cherishing the fleeting encounters that breathe life into the narrative of my existence.

As I wander through the kaleidoscope of human experiences, my heart bears witness to the beauty of impermanence. Like a wandering troubadour, I carry within me a melodic resonance, echoing the transient nature of existence itself. In the fleeting moments of connection, I seek to infuse the lives of others with the warmth of my presence, knowing that our time together is but a fleeting vignette in the grand tapestry of life.

And so, I continue to roam, forever embracing the ebb and flow of impermanence. With an unyielding spirit and an open heart, I navigate the uncharted terrain that stretches before me. For within the transience of my being lies the essence of my journey—a pilgrimage through the fluid landscapes of the human experience, where every encounter, no matter how fleeting, becomes an indelible stroke on the canvas of my ever-evolving narrative.

This ebb and flow of friendships and romances have woven a tumultuous pattern, their threads intricately tied to my family's enduring connection to the military. The comings and goings, the hellos and goodbyes, have become an all too familiar refrain in the symphony of my life. And as the seasons of connection have passed, I have become somewhat numb to their transient nature, a casualty of circumstance and repetition.

In the wake of these constant comings and goings, I find myself standing on the precipice of adulthood, bearing the weight of an unyielding separation. A veneer of detachment and professionalism masks the turbulent sea of emotions that surge beneath the surface. The few friendships I do manage to form are delicate, like gossamer threads, easily frayed and dispersed by the winds of impermanence. It is not that I lack the capacity for presence or charm, but rather the ever-lingering expectation that these connections will be short-lived. I have learned, through bittersweet experience, that relationships, like the changing seasons, are ephemeral and transient. What begins as a radiant summer romance inevitably fades into the distance, like the distant memory of a winter's chill. And I bear the weight of this impermanence, not as a burden to be cast aside, but as an intrinsic part of my being.

I perceive the world through the lens of a fleeting observer, a witness to the beauty and fragility of existence. Like a breathtaking sunset, each encounter shines brightly in its own fleeting moment, bringing a tear to my eye as I cherish its transient glory. But as quickly as the sun sinks below the horizon, so too do these moments slip away, leaving only the treasured memory in their wake. It is not a fault to be placed upon the shoulders of those who share these moments with me, for their presence is a gift I hold dear. No, the fault lies within myself, in my unconscious acceptance of impermanence.

And yet, amidst the ephemerality that shapes my world, there is a profound wisdom that has taken root within my soul. I have learned to embrace the beauty of the present, to revel in the moments of connection while acknowledging their inherent temporality. Each encounter becomes a masterpiece in its own right, a brushstroke of color upon the canvas of my existence. And though friendships and romances may come and go like the tides, leaving imprints upon my heart that reverberate with both joy and sorrow, I have come to accept their transience as an integral part of the human experience.

In this dance of impermanence, I have discovered a resilience that allows me to move forward, ever open to the possibilities that lie ahead. Each goodbye, though tinged with a touch of melancholy, becomes an opportunity for growth and transformation. I am a wanderer in the realms of connection, forever seeking the fleeting sparks that illuminate the path of my journey.

And so, as the chapters of my life unfold, I walk the delicate tightrope between attachment and release. I embrace the bittersweet symphony of impermanence, knowing that every encounter, no matter how fleeting, leaves an indelible mark upon the tapestry of my existence. Like a precious gem, each memory is polished and treasured, while I carry forward, forever attuned to the ephemeral nature of the world around me.
glass May 8
nearly noon oclock at night
phone screen poetry on a shared queen bed
the kitty woke me up this morning
his sweet little paws so gently said hello
a fistful of minutes and my toes touch the floor

i never understand the fridges of anothers home
but eggs are in the pan and pancake battered bowl
red room breakfast, black tea in the car
water on the ground sleeping soundly
cash back in the pocket
it was perfect pacin walkin
upstairs adventure with a basket of snacks
you called at just the right time for that strawberry milk pack

dorm couch poetry next to different angled conversations my world in rotation everything falling into place i dont know how to convey to you the magnitude but holy ******* **** i love my friends *******!

driving down the [] trail to ikea
cs backup in the backseat lackin sleep stacked up
parkin lot food keepin stats up
as the five hour campaign begins as it seems itll last us

why the ***** was it so hot in there

two weeks later and ive finally found a bathroom
(now i understand the scps and backrooms)
cleaning closed to women so its great that im a man or at least enough to take the handle still on brand but -
ive come to see things so unlike the way i have before a total norm to have the room with another human being it doesnt bother me at all in fact it feels natural sharing walls ive never been there on my own like that before -
such exhilaration from a stall inside a store and everything has changed,

Everything has Changed.

(fading bruises blue i never thought id heal in truth)
but actually outside of me every little thing has stayed the same -
and it is my lungs that have been shifted since the air that i am breathing is not different its just never like i used to

weird *** food court and a homework champ
bluetooth music with your mandatory lamp
hurtling down the aisles in a flatbed cart/
clambering the scaffolding
hampering the staff it seems
i say this dearly but you three quite sincerely
have a chokehold on my heart

ive never tried konjak jelly and ive never heard cherry wine but boy i cannot wait for these to be the first of a long string of things, immerse me in your lives submerged and intertwined i want to love you guys for a long long long ******* time
glass Apr 16
cloudy early brightly walking
auto pilot busing
an extra hour of penciled words
just for your entrusting
trigun sketches life drawn messes
another joined us later
and when the photos posted
he was clearly there and on the table in the conversation causing laughter blushing i was not expecting because now you know

but then at one, another ride
a couple window hours
yet again an extra time a walk sublime
the flowers were in blossom
cherry petal soles to your aunt and uncles home
a pink abode above a pretty road
a most beautiful smile just beyond the door

oh how i missed you

talk of alcohol and crushes/ down the block and such this is/ so wonderful i love you, club or tonic i dont know the difference

dicing garlic in the kitchen
noodles cooking bread baking i tried white wine for the first time
(it was not particularly good)
but i drank it and i love you, watching tv on the couch
the little man that mr chicken he is just a little guy
a darling baby boy a chunky kitten
makes me think to past and how it felt in the backseat of the hospital parking lot i miss him

long hugs by the sink, a purple face cloth to my hands
a day that is so beautiful
my love, the heart expands
glass Apr 16
integrals of goldfish and scrollin
significantly easier than expected
bracelets and blocks and rockets
from breakin a hundred

short drive the hill that rarely took
bowl of quinoa and another of pudding
just like the cups on the table of atla
waiting whistling losing air in digital pacing

it was four minutes after
one down and just to two
once again im wonderin but this time i know that its not true

cutting ice with knives and gliding with lemons
bodyprox'd knees and coworkers girlfriends
gargoyling fountains and relacing skates
i wouldnt much mind getting used to this

its dark and its late and you asked me what sort of changes id been thru
the second that ive ever told to

the first stop was closed but the next one was perfect
yoyo slingin in the parking lot
with rippled notes blastin tunes
reference typin effect affect i love you
glass Apr 16
early morning heavy bag with nothing else but hopeful
they said theyd be there soon
you say youll be there later
catan at engineering noon
was bittersweet flavored

water in the kettle
barely touched the mech on the table
last day tears in the after shelter mental
i was in the ceramics studio when you arrived when it all came together
rivers of slip and clay and dip and dip and swing

keeping printing lately squinting
we helped to bring the paper
you disappeared concerning feared
but just for shoes in your backseat

sparkled nails on the church's floor
behind the curtain essay typin
ping pong flyin wild story improv timin
next to those shoes scrollin and the topic was ace
so i dont know if its my place
as we left the lack of open doors was odd/
so then came back to the front lawn of god to give you a plastic bag of support
keepin rapport in some way of some sort
gracious hospitality that it wasnt raining
though when we were waiting there were trains and there was dogs/
but soon hes gone and hugged and loved

and now im in the front seat;
and then im in the drivers.

back window fogged, behind the wheel with you beside me reel and keel my necks still sore two days later just like my brain that needs a stapler
because i couldnt look at you
im scared of being fake but then/
music's meant to sing
i went to bed at 1 am
i dont regret a thing
glass Dec 2022
its been a minute
been around the block with my train ticket
travelin wicked fast with it in my hand missin all the scenery but bland cause it
not much
train dont stop for no **** but its your choice to go sit
to stay put and know this that you can jump ship
keep you in hold you down whisk you away
make you forget why you just woke up today
just chuggin along takin its time but speeding for fun
got you rugged but calm, just restin in some methodical thoughts it could sweep you in routines hypnotic youll not
remember the windows again hear yourself in your head but instead coast through life leaving living on read
you gotta
open the door
lean out feel the wind but keep it open for sure
the grounds whippin by but youll be just fine one step more tuck n roll,
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