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This residence is haunted
By no one but myself.
My room; a silent kingdom;
Yet is prison, and is hell.
Still-life inside a chrysalis;
My own skin forms a crypt.
The struggle to break free
Entombs me further yet.
It’s not that I am scared
Of the worlds’ one thousand things -
I’m scared that I will free myself
To find I have no wings.
we were out on the lake, and just for one day
my self-consciousness left me
i took off my shirt and joined the world
the entire world was six teenagers in the water
and the world failed to notice
when i went under and i didn’t come up

after the incident something was broken
the part of my brain that kept me
from biting off my fingers like carrots
the part that made me keep routines
and ignore my sensitivities
now i’m a muscle and everything else
everything that isn’t a dark room and a cool bed
is an electrical probe making me twitch
Through a forest glade
and down a narrow path
there stands a sacred tree
with its heart torn in half.

Bramble clings to its trunk
ivy covers over its bark,
reaching up for the light
fighting against the dark.

Forgotten by the woods,
ignored in a crowded place,
for it yearns for attention,
just a little tender grace.

© Pagan Paul (27/06/19)
 Jun 27 The uniVerse
i wish i could blame you
for driving me crazy,
but i’m the one
who called shotgun
Listen to what people say,
Don't just wait to speak.
Listen closely and you'll hear
What it is they seek.

Listen to what people say
And hear the things they don't.
The silence in a pause alone
Will speak what the mouth won't.
I loved your skin more than my own and for that I failed myself
do you still think of me?
teach me how to love in fragments instead of with the whole of me
teach me about ill-timed affection and confessions given right when I begin to let go
I’ll teach you what it’s like to feel you; in my skin- in my head
I want to be unbothered by you, but my heart and mind have never reached a compromise
do you still think of me?
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