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#disorientation
These wings were meant for air This concrete scrapes my soul Soft light, I lose my focus I think I'm looking up But I can't tell anymore
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May 1
May 1, 2026 at 7:54 AM UTC
Moth Struggling on Ground
fumbled with tittering fears                  i woke early opened  in the red light room my child’s room    red by his voice lit like emergency in a nuclear submarine and submerged by an allegiance of dreams open the curtain and   it's tarnished cold               first cold autumn play of light bites back that  otherly  world                                                             pray  mother take over begin my day                                 and i'll drop   my unnecessary churn
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Jan 4
Jan 4, 2026 at 8:40 PM UTC
f l o u n d e r
and the bus doors open just the same every day is beautiful in its own way with rain and bows and sunlight shoots a flick book show as she puts down roots riding through a magic land, unicorn mane in her hands with the glitter of another day shining on her skin stirring cinnamon porridge in the window seat every syllable uniform, pressed and neat shiny black shoes upon her feet and the bus doors open just the same every day a crisp fresh new page with colour splashes dropping all around a crescendo of new sights and sounds dancing through the middle of a dream with the taste of satisfaction on her tongue stepping the same cracks in her cigarette break the lines on her face begin to ache she's wondering if she's really awake and the bus doors open just the same every night is a shadow of the night before with thought puzzles building the road back home the tripping rhythm of another poem riding the track mindlessly as her nostrils fill with the same stale stench in her own time she's all lost at sea boiling up for another cup of tea she's so sick of her own company and the bus doors open just the same And tomorrow will be beautiful in its own way and the bus doors open just the same.
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Jun 26, 2013
Jun 26, 2013 at 6:10 PM UTC
Tides
I bit the sun And it tasted like tinfoil Every shadow has eyes now And they all blink out of sync My name doesn’t fit right in my mouth It writhes Too many teeth I watch the wallpaper breathe And pretend it isn’t speaking But it is It always is You said “calm down” Like I wasn’t already holding the ceiling in place With a splintered jaw and A scream I forgot how to aim I pour milk over static Call it breakfast Swallow whole days The clocks tick sideways The floor sighs Everything feels staged But no one gave me lines I clap when the lights flicker Just in case it’s the end Or the beginning Hard to tell My hands aren’t mine anymore They just follow the hum
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Jul 27, 2025
Jul 27, 2025 at 3:19 PM UTC
Static Milk
sprawling in the wet dregs                                                                                               i fumble who you are threatening        me        with        animal "you jag  you jag  you jag-you-are-you-are-you-are" laughing like unpleasantry  laughing with obscene calling on the meat of madness                               (absurdity of this scene )
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May 20, 2025
May 20, 2025 at 9:33 AM UTC
chard
Falling This notion of the ground slipping away Circumstances make people become- Different Hardens them somehow Emotion takes its toll, Wears you out, Tires you If you hurt long enough- It’s easier to be hollow Trust me Falling When you can’t remember which way is up- Things like being more Or is it less? Of, well anything Don’t seem to matter Solid ground Like cold, wet, cement after the rain Something real to latch onto To stop the dizzying spiral Something Someone To ground you Remind you who you are To bring you back From the dead Or is it ****** Knowing the breadcrumbs are there To lead me back Is how I know I’ll survive the fall
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Apr 5, 2014
Apr 5, 2014 at 1:35 PM UTC
Falling