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#cryptid
In the snow there is a coyote sitting there, looking At me as I come out of my place of employment As I look it him, He turns into dog, Then he shape shifts into a wolf And then a human being As the human smiles and shows his teeth. They look like a megalodon’s teeth, Sharp and thin As he lunged at me A I see that he turns back to a coyote His shadow now, shape-sifting  with each Bump and snow ball I am terrified And I am frightened for this Is a cryptid A mystery monster That nearly attacked me, Submitted for approval of the midnight society This is the tale of the coyote
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Oct 29, 2025
Oct 29, 2025 at 7:53 PM UTC
The coyote
the Mothman Cometh in dead of night who knows his pain who knows his plight left unchecked in their faulty haste born in pools of chemicals and waste a slip of nature he roams the skies with wings of a condor and red blazing eyes it is said he had vanished when the bridge came down but I believe he remains at the outskirts of town I have been to Point Pleasant and his presence I feel on the river on the streets in the steps of John Keel
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Jul 30, 2025
Jul 30, 2025 at 9:29 AM UTC
The Mothman Cometh
There once was a bigfoot whose feet Were shamefully small and petite,      So he wore some big shoes,      But the obvious ruse Was a clownish attempt at deceit.
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May 27, 2025
May 27, 2025 at 6:42 PM UTC
Littlefoot
i wandered in the forest, as so many hopeless do despite the warnings of the wise and found myself tracing the world fingers ghosting over leaves and foxglove blossoms as the woods grew dark around me and the moon seemed to shy away from my path when i stood still to search for it, what i found instead was her standing tall enough to choke the light and yet almost like a flame bloodied flowers growing from her chest and covering her ribs and antlers stretching from her amber hair "i am", she spoke, "the patron of dreams just barely forgotten the echo of a memory straying further away the more you strive to keep it close" a flutter between us in the silence a moth landing on her skin and attempting to draw blood where it sat, a new flower spread swallowing it whole my head felt heavy as i swayed slick sickening warmth coating my teeth i fell to my knees and as i did my eyes met the leaves and dirt below but where before there had been sticks and wood i saw bones littering the earth "it is a shame", she said over the sound of the forest stirring twisting with displeasure at my discovery "you were as beautiful as you were lost"
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Jul 30, 2020
Jul 30, 2020 at 9:42 AM UTC
An Encounter
I spit up words and swallow them over again. I'm starving for any concept, any notion of myself. Is this how I operate? Is this how I communicate? I make prints in the soil and them to match my feet. I'm trying to prove my own existence over any and all else. Is this where I tread? Are my steps that weighted? I touch bodies and am touched back in turn. I wish I understood the matter that I occupy. Will I know myself in time? Could I love myself in time? Of nothing, I am sure.
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Aug 27, 2019
Aug 27, 2019 at 9:03 PM UTC
Of nothing, I am sure.