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#mrm
pain from within is like a shot of lightning to the chest that no one sees but everyone hears how were we to know that just because we see light doesn't mean that better times are coming light stands for good but connotates putting the bad out of our heads when it just gives us a better view
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Aug 21, 2020
Aug 21, 2020 at 10:09 AM UTC
lightning
blood isn't effective because someday you'll run out. we know this. soak up sun instead drench yourself in salt water kick up dirt under your heels let blades of grass slice open your back then slice open your mind it you let your pain come from elsewhere, you'll have time to produce your own happiness
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Aug 17, 2020
Aug 17, 2020 at 9:41 AM UTC
photosynthesis
good can always come from bad call me a hypocrite, but drowning causes life and thinking causes death let the water fill your head and void your recesses of any toxicity that resides there better to drown in the new than to stay stuck in the old and while rain waters can convert to toxic waste, sometimes a weekly purge is more than necessary
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Aug 12, 2020
Aug 12, 2020 at 9:53 AM UTC
rain barrel
for shaking hands, i find a prudent remedy is a rainy day doctors recommend laying on the pavement with your back pressed to the ground and eyes closed, mouth open, drinking in all the purity the sky offers you it is only then, in drowning, that you will remember how to feel alive
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Jul 27, 2020
Jul 27, 2020 at 8:37 AM UTC
sprinkle
sometimes i find it's easier to stop trying to find that specific blueprint in the back of a drawer and create a completely new one based on the pieces i'm working on and think outside the box
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Jul 22, 2020
Jul 22, 2020 at 9:47 PM UTC
realty
what are issues if not explosions? i know most, myself included, prefer a slow burn, a quiet scorch, but explosions are inevitable. it's figuring out what to do with them and how to navigate them that is the fun part you can build so many things from that amount of pieces
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Jul 20, 2020
Jul 20, 2020 at 1:12 PM UTC
lego
fire doesn't always burn out. once it's there, it is always there. it may not still be roaring, but embers have a way of incinerating you, just at a slower pace. that's why i always keep a canister of gasoline handy- you never know when you need to douse yourself to feel alive.
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Jul 20, 2020
Jul 20, 2020 at 1:04 PM UTC
sticks and coal
it doesn't hurt to lose skin against skin sensations? maybe i'm extraordinary, but aching hurts and i ache constantly
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Jul 20, 2020
Jul 20, 2020 at 12:42 PM UTC
level up
that temptation for me didn't come in the form of drugs or alcohol but the intoxication of others i admit i found solace in their lips and their hips and everything inbetween but is it wrong to want lust when love has ****** you? sometimes i leave my icebox open on accident and it makes my house absolutely freezing how come we have to pay to turn down the heat
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Jul 20, 2020
Jul 20, 2020 at 12:32 PM UTC
iced over
but the rust still remains. between your fingers, in your hair, cracking across your lips and the birds you admire from your broken window. did you ever stop to think that it made you appreciate being clean? it's not as beautiful as silver, not as strong as titanium, not as effervescent as chrome. it covers you head to toe and still you insist that you've moved on. i see your true colors, and right now they're all varying shades of red. what happened to you, what did you lose? and what did you think i turned to? *drugs and ******* money, i can hear the birds sing maybe it's deliberate if it's lacking substance* somehow that's not where i ended up but the birds are still tarnished and that honestly just makes me thankful for the temptations that gave me more than the color red did you scrub yourself raw trying to burn the memories away? can you still hear the birds?
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Jul 20, 2020
Jul 20, 2020 at 10:10 AM UTC
tarnished wings
if you visited my mind you'd find a lot of broken teacups, glistening with the remnants of silver that pushed its way up my throat when i realized that i was alone again. and if you wanted to look closer- watch your step, more shards- you might even find a glint of titanium somewhere. it started slowly, a taste for black without the need for sugar and cream, and grew. it was so effortless once i let go of my wishes to continue to stay a purist, as my tastes grew from sharp and metallic to true and tough, because- a little to your left, careful- let's be honest, silver is beautiful but a facade. and i can't help but wonder how things would have panned out if- let me move that for you, hold on- we had started out with black instead of sugary pretenses and swirling wishes to be bigger than we were. because nothing is more tough than a black coffee. and when i lace mine with titanium, i realize that we could have been stronger. what are you drinking now?
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Jul 20, 2020
Jul 20, 2020 at 8:50 AM UTC
black coffee and titanium spoons
and the wandering continues through abandoned boathouses where we hung up our words at night soaked to the bone in emotion and despair yet clinging to the hope that tomorrow would bring smoother tides how could we have known that silver only lasts for so long before it tarnished, and inspiration is nothing if not fleeting? the wood of the docks is decaying now, along with dreams had in years past that got tangled up in our lines before we ceased trying to cast them anywhere anymore. but I still watch the sunset every night and wonder what would’ve happened if we had gotten into our boats and never looked back.
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Jul 14, 2020
Jul 14, 2020 at 10:20 PM UTC
wet shoes and uncaught dreams
i miss writing hearts into my eyes and drawing bombs over my heart and dipping it all in silver, claiming it came from my tongue instead of from a paint can did you ever think about how we could have been as famous as those burn outs that write songs for girl groups with lyrics talking about *** and heartbreak when what we wrote about was more real than the goosebumps i got each time i pressed "post"? i miss the vagueness, the inspiration that flowed through me without my even needing to try, just sitting down at a keyboard and slamming it against my forehead until songs spilled out of it like silver we were the best of poetry pen pals that only looked to each other for the words to say that guarded us against the words said against us when we got off our computers write to me again?
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Jun 19, 2020
Jun 19, 2020 at 11:26 AM UTC
i see you.
The person who always knows when something’s the matter But doesn’t pry because time will tell The beauty you hold doesn’t just come from the outside But It is flowing within   You have a kind heart that not everyone Deserves to see but you show it to anyone You think needs a pick me up Everything you’d want in a best friend Could be found in you So I worry about you going away I could never get tired of our late night talks The ones where we just lay in the dark Because I can tell you anything and everything But as it turns out Everyone has a different definition of forever And I hate that I’m waiting to see what yours is
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May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 9:46 AM UTC
to my best friend,