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OC 1d
We toil
And *****
And sweat
On  mundane tasks of day-to-day
In a trodden path
We pace in circles
Through a routine
Thicker than molasses

Our arm extended to both sides
And fingers spread as a fans
We make the struggle even worse
In an effort to ensnare
Not matter,
But what matters
The idle chats when days draw to a close
A gentle, loving ******
A smile, a laugh
A joyful tear
A warm embrace before the dawn
And sometimes
(if we're lucky)
Even a plump adventure

All of which we catch
In the sieves that are our palms
Bringing them
Closer to our core
Into prisms of pure light
Shining like the sunrise
Placing those
One on top the other
While keeping on the go
Brick by brick
We build ourselves
A home
I love life with you, for all its comprising parts
and with you
I sit, alone, through the days and nights, accompanied only by
the beating of my heart; that
r h y t h m
which is the only consistency we have to cherish.
The routines we build for ourselves breed change.
Nothing is steadfast.

As humans, we were made to falter.
We wish and fight and dream,
yet fall short of our own expectations.
What Great Being decided it was a good idea to grant the human race
a break in routine is necessary
when momentary sadness
becomes ritualistic pain
When the sun is low
and the breeze has gone
We will meet again
to sing our last refrain

Oh the never ending cold
you must have grown so old
But now the breeze has gone
and, too, the sun is low

Wrap around my sheets of wind
Set alight the self within
Strike out on my endless skin
I'll still be here when you rescind

Have you now sailed your fill
And tasted salt again?
Now the breeze has failed against my will
So I sing the last refrain

Shelter from my sheets of wind
Stow away the self within
Whisper now to spite the storm
Poison me forever more

Play a game you cannot win
I'll be here when you begin
Make a life that's warm and dry
Never stop to wonder why
Silky cocoon of routine leaves
this metamorphosis stagnating
how the discomfort thieves
the fear of change isolating

The struggle lies in the escape
with no energy left to attempt
monotonous days left to drape
as if life holds me in contempt

Hanging on this lonely branch
sometimes I pray just to fall
monotonous routine's avalanche 
creates days so banal

And then a child finds the lonely silk
plucks carefully into a glass jar
Oh how the curiosity of their ilk
creates this warm inner spar

A want to escape
a need to taste 
freedom's luscious grapes
make haste happiness, 
make haste.
Madisen Kuhn Oct 22
i hope you revel in the normalcy
when you feel the sunrise on your skin
walking down a brick path
i hope you breathe in the morning
hold the ordinary close to you
like a life that almost didn’t happen

because for some of us
it didn’t happen

i have never felt the blissful repetition
in being surrounded by what is expected
standing in seasons and looking at skylines
that your mothers and fathers
have stood in and looked at
mothers and fathers who do your laundry
when you come home to a home
that has smelled the same
for the past twenty years

so i hope that you laugh and drink
a little too much
and kiss people who make you feel seen
i hope you listen to bad music
and hug your friends too tightly
and skip your eight a.m. just because
you need slowness and stillness
and a coffee from the corner
and a breath of fresh air
in the morning
on a brick path
with the midday sun
on your skin
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