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i never ran my best race
or pulled the right strings
forfeit and
confused potential
they called it

but to me
it was always named

to be made for
the wrong trade
i jumped anyway
because without you
i thought
perhaps i would fly
i wrote in rings
rings of fire and
rings for flyers
to set off
and marry the sky
And how do you justify
that savior complex?

You think you’re
a craftsman, a
jack of all trades
but the maker begets
the tinkerer.

Heed the warnings
of Pandora’s Box.
thief! fool of a man
i demand back the
words you stole

to fall in love with
writer’s block
is a writer’s death
for me

give them back
**** you
give them back
oh try i did
to build up walls
dig canyons and
tear down bridges

but you strayed from exile
again and again
because there’s no
breaking up constellations

it’s a pesky little thing
the way it pulls at
the little things
and makes nebulas
of you
Talis Ren Jan 9
I held a gun to your head
Pulled the trigger and
Choked on red
Died by my own hand
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