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#aimlessness
it had taken bones, reshuffled and pounded to pieces fingertips, scorched from molding cast irons, worn, from unsewing and re-sewing heartbeats and wrists, white from scarring, for me not to break at the slightest touch.
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Sep 4, 2019
Sep 4, 2019 at 7:46 PM UTC
man-made paradox
Oh, how you have begot routine An occupation entered most unexpectedly Consuming a once vivid and polymathic soul Seeped into your bones Left you forgot, a flickering and dying star Yes, you're here every day, but you're heart feels vacant; gone away, or really still at home, wherever that is Your body's traveling the world, but your mind's spinning in circles, too fast to see past the fugue Will you reminisce of these days to your future children? Or will you skip this period, for this is not really you to begin with? Hope your intermission will come to an end May you someday return, spirited and renewed
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Mar 8, 2019
Mar 8, 2019 at 11:14 AM UTC
Oh, Hope
One open can of half empty **** water popped the night before for a palm of pills, codeine and HRT chased with Kamchatka 8-0 she collapses in bed with hope in her head, belly full. Morning comes, her will is gone, she stumbles blind to root her elbows at the window sill, still groggy from the high of nighttime. Noon comes and the clock stops, it's a road block setup at the overpass and by the time transference makes sense she's spent her energy just shifting. In place, enervated. A mistake. A husk built of guilt and bone. In a closed room full of blood and ***** alone. Atone. In place, enervated, elbows at the window sill.
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Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 1:12 PM UTC
Enervation Game: "Elbows at the Window Sill"