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Zywa Jan 9
We don't talk about

anything, we only smell --


of the same bath soap.
Novel "jl." ("recently" - the title also refers to Juno Linnaarts, 2016, Anjet Daanje), chapter June 4th, 1984

Collection "Skin-contact"
Zywa Jan 8
Phone conversation,

about the locations we --


are supposedly at.
Novel "jl." ("recently" - the title also refers to Juno Linnaarts, 2016, Anjet Daanje), chapter June 4th, 1984

Collection "Within the walls"
Zywa Aug 2023
Talking isn't easy,

so each of us is often --


in our own bell-jar.
Children's book "Haaientanden" ("Shark's teeth", 2019, Anna Woltz), chapter "75.4 kilometers"

Collection "Shelter"
Mystic Ink Plus Jul 2018
If I am asked, what is the best topic to write?

I will always reply,  
THE SILENCE
Theme: Silence got a big voice
Genre: Autobiography
Wren Djinn Rain Sep 2015
So what I drink all my calories
I'm sane and you're not, bruh
It's never enough even to wear
what you're wearing and talk
like you talk, do you even care?
Killing myself keeping things legit in your sphere
Black sheep combine forces to feel
wanted, keeping your company
I feel blocked when you're nodding.
Yes, I'm acting just like you want me,
bruh, I'm coming up short to your haughti
ness, blessed with a sense of self
stopping just short of your level and
what the hell, what I am doing here
fighting for otherness, concerned
with the purity of water of my brothers
and my sisters of the covenant
You talk about faith when it comes
to prey that you're stalking, keep
it strong, yolo, fleek, and a hashtag
To be honest I'm scared that my hometown
will be infested with those the internet
claimed and ingest, swallowed with
speed of light, people spit out as pesticide
turning the verdant green such a ****** brown
Yes you're so on top and classy, lacking
purposely the tenets that turn a body fancy
Cool *** beard bro, girl that's a freak ***
hairdo, up in the midst short sides a pool cue
locked in your hands up inside a ******* dive bar,
midnight drive holding a pipe 'hind your
headlights, Yes you're mixing with the best
making them arrogant, such a lens to view
the struggles they been through, Weird queer
younglings in their late twenties and homeless
at some point, only the noise of the sirens
and blue lit bathrooms, keeper of the needle
rights, and happiness,5-0 lights blasting on naito, picking
on the kids white/brown outside washing
the day away with the kiss of the pabst
taking a nap on the grass on the waterfront
blessed with lives with beards and queers
passing by as they want one.
svdgrl Jan 2015
I wake up every morning clutching my reserve
like you clutch your smartphone,
pleading with it in a whisper,
*"Please don't die on me."

— The End —