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Haven with eyes closed.

If it was.
Washing dirt.
***** socks.
Missing fish.
Say it without.
Pebbles, massacre.
Because I...uh.
Stringy hair.
Rocking back and forth.
Back and forth.
Dramatic but it fits.

Garrett Johnson.
Dose of the sleep-_-up.
  The Johanna embrace.....................
π™Έπš 𝚠𝚊𝚜 πš˜πš•πš πš›πšžπšπšπšŽπš πšŠπš—πš πšπš’πš—πšŽ,
𝙰 πš‹πš’πš πš‹πš’πš; 𝚊 πšœπšπš’πšπšŒπš‘ πš’πš— πš—πš’πš—πšŽ.
πšƒπš‘πš›πšŽπšŠπšπšœ 𝚘𝚏 πšœπš’πš•πšŸπšŽπš›, πš•πš’πš—πšŽπšœ 𝚘𝚏 πš•πš’πš—πšŽπš—,
πš”πš—πš’πšπšπšŽπš πš πš’πšπš‘ πš πšŠπš›πš–πšπš‘ πš˜πš› πš πš˜πšŸπšŽπš—.

𝙸 πšπš˜πšžπš—πš πš’πš πš’πšŽπšŠπš›πšœ πšŠπšπšπšŽπš›,
πšƒπš‘πšŽ πš˜πš•πš πšπš’πš— πš‹πš˜πš‘, πš’πš— πš’πš, πšπš‘πšŽ πšœπš πšŽπšŠπšπšŽπš›.
π™Ύπš•πš 𝚊𝚜 πš’πš πšœπš‘πš˜πšžπš•πš πš‹πšŽ, πš πš˜πš›πš—πš 𝚘𝚞𝚝 πš•πš˜πš˜πšœπšŽπš•πš’.
π™³πšžπšœπšπšŽπš πšŠπš—πš πšœπšžπš—πš”πš’πšœπšœπšŽπš, πšœπšπš›πšŽπšπšŒπš‘πšŽπš 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚘 πšπš‘πšŽ πšπš’πšœπš.

𝙸 πš™πšžπš πš’πš πš˜πš—,
π™΅πš’πš›πšœπš πšπš‘πšŽ πšŠπš›πš–πšœ, πšπš‘πšŽπš— πšπš‘πšŽ πš‘πšŽπšŠπš πš’πšœ πšπš›πšŠπš πš—.
π™΅πšŽπš•πš πšπš‘πšŽ πš πšŠπš›πš–πšπš‘,
π™΅πšŽπš•πš πšπš‘πšŽ πšœπš’πš•πšŸπšŽπš›,
π™΅πšŽπš•πš πšπš‘πšŽ πš•πš’πš—πšŽπšœ, πšπš‘πšŽ πš‘πšŠπš—πšπšœ 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 πš”πš—πš’πšπšπšŽπš›.

𝙰 πšƒπš˜πš”πšŽπš— 𝚘𝚏 πš πšŠπš›πš–πšπš‘ πšŽπšŸπšŽπš›πš–πš˜πš›πšŽ,
πšπšŽπšπš•πšŽπšŒπšπšŽπš πšπš‘πš›πš˜πšžπšπš‘ πš•πš˜πšŸπšŽ πšŠπš—πš πšπšŠπš•πš˜πš›πšŽ.
π™Όπš˜πšπš‘πšŽπš›'𝚜 πšŒπš˜πš–πšπš˜πš›πš πš˜πš— 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝 πš•πš’πš—πšŽπš—,
πšπš˜πš•πš•πšœ 𝚘𝚏 πš πš˜πš˜πš• πšŠπš—πš πš”πš’πšπšπšŽπš—πšœ.

π™·πšŠπš—πšπš πš˜πšŸπšŽπš— πš˜πš› πš”πš—πš’πšπšπšŽπš
𝙸 πš™πšžπš πš’πš πš˜πš— πšœπšŠπš’πš πš’πš 𝚠𝚊𝚜 πš–πš’ πšπšŠπšŸπš˜πšžπš›πš’πšπšŽ!
Old cashmere rekindles old memories and cradles the past in front of one's eyes....
karly codr Dec 2020
So I'm sitting at my kitchen table.
And I'm watching the folklore long pond studio sessions.
And drinking peppermint tea.
And I have a big fluffy sweater wrapped around me. (not THE cardigan. I get that on Christmas.)
And it's just so aesthetically pleasing.
Like, I'm watching the folklore long pond sessions,
and drinking tea
and I'm wrapped in a sweater.
Is there anything more "folklore-ish" than that?
Like seriously, this makes me so happy, and i seriously haven't been genuinely happy in a while and this moment what just kind of serene, you know? It just makes me happy to realize that maybe I can be happy again. And I'm slowly getting there. Back to happy I mean. So anyway. This was just a really aesthetic moment. And it made me happy.
Niel Nov 2020
in a sense we're just a present tense expulsion
Refuting the rhythms, playing escapism
Β Β Β Β  Thr'out's weaving flawless textures
Β Β Β Β Β Β  Mapping exact, luminous essence of gold

Purity reign,
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β process.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β ­Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β symbol.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β ­inferred.

--So it's like, no matter whom or what, we happen upon is a reference and different aspect of yrself, having its own experience. Trying to figure out certain levels of understanding, depending on their function of balance.

Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β That's a mighty sweater
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β to be displaying on that pop-up ad.
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β And it's a ****** shame, somethings
Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β even have to be mentioned
Chloe LeBoeuf Nov 2020
Each day seems longer, and
I don’t know what I’m doing here.
I fill our world with things
and I still feel empty.
The cat has a sweater,
the living room has two couches,
and the backyard has a fence lined with decorative lights.
I am overworked,
you are unhappy,
the bigot is still in the white house, and
there are fifteen assignments due within the next week.
Each day seems longer, and
I don’t know what I’m doing here.

Life is a series of choices,
but why must those choices be so constrained?
I long for a time of tranquility,
a landscape illuminated by only the moon.
People who move slowly,
and, well, don’t have to wear masks.
Sandy streets, chilly evenings, the uninterrupted sound
of amphibians singing by the water.
Let’s pack up my guitar, the tent, a notebook, a pencil, a soccer ball,
a blanket, the pillows, and the camping bin.
We can drive until we reach Maine,
or head south to the Texas coastline.
We will find a way to survive within these
constrained choices.
Our bodies will warm each other,
the crickets will sing us to sleep,
and we will fill our world -
you, me, our cat, and his sweater.
Druzzayne Rika Sep 2020
After the end of cold evening
I pull through the sleeves of my sweater
Keep my hand wrapped around my coffee
Get ready to dive into a new adventure
The book resting on the table
The one who'd keep me up till early morning.
Moth Jun 2020
the soft pull of you
fabric across my skin
pulled over my head
with rolled sleeves
you keep me warm
tucked into your folds
burrowing down softly
a comfort like no other
N May 2020
I wear a sweater no
matter the weather

It keeps me warm
and hides my shame

Sometimes I forget
what my arms look like,
but every time I try to look

I see only the scars that has
slowly healed but never faded,
and I am reminded of my pain

And so I wear a sweater no
matter how hot the weather
I haven’t written anything in a month, I have lost my inspiration with all this chaos happening in the world. But today I write and hope my voice will be heard.  Stay safe everyone.
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