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Splish, splish, ploop. A stone gently disturbs the plane of the mirror, before descending into undisclosed depths. Ripples erupt, breaking the surface of the tarn. As the current subsides— splish, splish, ploop. What if we could live and die, creating such soft— such token undulations? Splish, splish, ploop. Let’s cause cosmic waves of compassion and aegis for the planet, our companion- leaving, as such, small wrinkles and blemishes upon the surface. Splish, splish, ploop. A. I. Myles   2o June, 2o19 @athenaeumthoughts
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Jun 22, 2019
Jun 22, 2019 at 12:25 AM UTC
Skipping Stones
A “mailbox” is a funny thing. It used to be a means of keeping in touch with the ones that we loved— a tool for connections and correspondences. What do we even have mailboxes for now? Stores send out coupons for us to accumulate goods now. Credit card companies send out reminders to pay off our debts now. Everyone’s circulating love, but of status and wealth now. We’ve become so consumed with our phones, with fashion and greed... how? A. I. Myles 19 June, 2o19 @athenaeumthoughts
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Jun 19, 2019
Jun 19, 2019 at 5:04 PM UTC
Mailboxes
Please don’t tell me “you’re too young to be tired.” I’ll be as tired as I dang-we’ll please. There are so many ways to be “spent” beyond what you see physically— weariness runs more than skin-deep. So don’t tell me how you think I should feel, because you could never understand. My brain, it thrums constantly and drains me emotionally, in ways that you can’t fix with sleep. A. I. Myles 18 June, 2o19 @athenaeumthoughts
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Jun 18, 2019
Jun 18, 2019 at 9:23 PM UTC
“Don’t Even Think About It.”
I’ve experienced more than my eyes could ever show you. Steal a glimpse through the window when the moonlight hits just right, and you might find the faintest flicker- vivid imagery. I’ve experienced more than my lips could ever tell you. Put your ear to the door. Listen closely. Deeply. Don’t take a breathe. You could miss my faintest of whispering- subtle mysteries. A. I. Myles 14 June, 2o19 @athenaeumdreams
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Jun 16, 2019
Jun 16, 2019 at 7:39 AM UTC
Glimpse
I haven’t been able to sleep so well lately. Going to bed late, I stir from dreams constantly. During the day I feel so awake, and I’ve been writing consistently. I have words in my brain, like it’s tuned into some frequency. - A. I. Myles 12 June, 2019 @athenaeumthoughts
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Jun 13, 2019
Jun 13, 2019 at 7:08 PM UTC
Frequency
The thoughts of a writer can be a terrific and terrible chasm, simultaneously. They spring from one precipice to another, dangerously, no- longingly peering over the edge, ready to bound head-first towards the next afflatus. A. I. Myles 11 June, 2019 @athenaeumthoughts
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Jun 11, 2019
Jun 11, 2019 at 9:17 PM UTC
Precipice
I was a moth, drawn to you like a candle- until you blew out the flame. - A. I. Myles   o9 June, 2019 @athenaeumthoughts
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Jun 10, 2019
Jun 10, 2019 at 8:03 AM UTC
“Moth”
Give me the thick, dark clouds that blanket the sky in grey. Give me the fat, cold globules of H2O, falling from the firmament. I would gladly gaze up, and allow them to land upon my head and my neck and my shoulders, sending a flutter down my spine— straight through to my fingertips. Give me the cracklings of those super-charged particles, displacing the air clearing the horizon as it illuminates just like Independence Day. Give me the hot, sticky, sweat-filled calm, and let the tides roll in to wash it away on the back of the thunderstorm. A. I. Myles o9 June, 2019
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Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 12:02 PM UTC
Thunderstorms
It is ok to say “no.” There are moments where a reply of “not today” and “maybe another time” are more important than pleasing everyone— regardless. The Sun will continue to shine, rain will continue to fall, and grass will continue to grow— regardless. Birds will sing their songs, life will go on, and taking time to breathe could be just what is needed. Those who understand will accept your self-care, and they will choose to love you— regardless. A. I. Myles o9 June, 2019
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Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 12:01 PM UTC
Regardless
Some flowers have no petals, some bugs have no wings, and some trees have no leaves. Some fires make no smoke, some bottles may be broken, and some books have no words, Some humans have no humanity. A. I. Myles o7 June, 2019
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Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 11:59 AM UTC
Some
I love the smell that lingers as I spend these moments with you, the curve of your spine against my fingertips, and the sounds you make as I take my time discovering your secrets. Your untold stories unfurl, inspiring my thoughts by day and my dreams by night. My imagination runs wild at the thought of holding you again. Your words flow through me, like a river of music for the soul. Books. A. I. Myles o5 June, 2019
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Jun 9, 2019
Jun 9, 2019 at 11:57 AM UTC
Untitled
what can I do if a flower I've admired has been picked what can I do if the sun that shines so lovely has set what can I do and if my heart full of love to give doesn't receive love to take I love the flower for the memories I'll forever have of it's beauty I love the sun for the hours of sunlight it gave me and love my heart cause it loves to love not to be loved in return
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Sep 16, 2017
Sep 16, 2017 at 5:16 AM UTC
I do