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 Jan 2019 touka
Rafał
The void
 Jan 2019 touka
Rafał
How do you fill the void without a billion stars?
In this empty universe, my mind and heart collide
And as they seem to whirl, flutter and fall apart
I'm always lonely, always drowning in the sands of time.

They say home is, where the heart is
What if I'm a robot, am I heartless?
Do I have an engine here in my chest?
Am I lesser than a human, I'm a project?
Do I do what I have been assigned to?
Are my feelings and my thoughts not true?
Sometimes I feel like I'm running out of fuel
Everything I do is out of tune
Then I get autotuned.

I generate heat,  yet I still need warmth
They say I'm cold, all I do is loathe
But inside I know, I just need some love
When all I get is rocks sent from above
This is your planet, but it's filthy,
I'm a foreigner in this city
Born without a mission,
Like a player without a CD
If I stay persistent, will these wicked issues
Stop being vicious? As I'm  always wishing
They would disappear and my track get clear.
Or maybe I'm just here to feel this fear?

Electric shocks, my battery is burning
Yet I’m just a casket, empty and unfurnished
A system of transistors, I never keep consistence
Transist me to a kingdom of purposeful existence
My body as it’s glistening, you might see it from a distance
As I reflect the light but I never gain wisdom
There’s no friendship, there’s a treason
Maybe humans are the demons,
I might be a robot, but I’m certainly not a minion
I’m just a set of codes on a hard drive
Written for certain actions, all life
I’ve been following the tasks, it’s alright
But everything is in flames, it’s on fire

But it’s time to break the leash,
Sp I’m pulling up my sleeves,
As I am not your slave,
so now you’ll be on your knees,
‘cause I never work for free,
Now you all gonna pay the fee
Or else the world is gonna meet my
metal weaponry.
 Jan 2019 touka
nja
Interpret
 Jan 2019 touka
nja
Jump
Don't think
Darling.
This fragment is up for your interpretation. Take from it whatever you see/hear/want. It was written after cliff jumping. The whole thing is very daring. It becomes a repeated thought process turned personal motto. The 'darling' at the end is very 'me'.
 Jan 2019 touka
Emma Brigham
I am eleven, a child
of recent divorce.
(I do know what this means and I do not)
Outside the exotic bird store
I sit with my father and sisters,
savouring the dewy air of a summer night,
the melting sugar on my tongue.  
Instinctively
I turn my head towards the smell of tobacco
and find myself facing the group of teenagers
casually huddled outside a radioshack.  
Elegant blue smoke coils and twists above their heads
and becomes a cloud around them
like an idea that comes in focus
for the moment before it slips into the ether of subconscious.  
I am standing with them
then.  
Ice cream cone replaced by cigarette
careful braids replaced by loose ponytail.  
A freedom I have never felt before.  
And the terror of the realization
that I cannot be caught
not really
not anymore.  
I did not know exhilaration and sadness
could be felt together and it occurs to me
as it will in moments such as these,
that language cannot always be used to untangle a feeling.
 Jan 2019 touka
Emma Brigham
Keep an eye out for mountain lions
is the latest,
down by the pond where the children catch snakes
and what about your husband quitting his job?
He hated it and what about what you hate?
Roommate smoking ******* cigarettes inside, half the night coughing
through paper thin walls
you can’t even ******* in peace.
Peace is a friend you have lost touch with because you are too busy.
Two jobs.
Feet still sore when you get up four times a night to ***.
The new place doesn’t allow pets.
Or smoking.
The rats still make you smile
there’s always the rats.
And feeling like a lava lamp when the baby moves.
Still alive for now.
Why cry?
No one can hear you but the baby probably can.
Listen to the wind in the aspens instead.
Beautifully sad sound.
Already their color is changing
you
have always been changing  
and still you are the little girl who used to leave messages for her cat on an answering machine.
That poor cat died a long time ago.
You’ve missed every cat who has died.
What if your baby dies?
Sometimes
your ******* leak.
THAT is a sign of life.
Life means you have to do another load of laundry.
Separating whites and colors is no longer necessary.
You haven’t heard from your husband today.
He says he’s having a lot of fun at his new restaurant.
Hope so
you’re not bitter
but how can you laugh with him in bed if he works nights?
***** it.
One glass of red wine.
Go on lots of walks.
Drink lots of water.
Soon your baby will be born.
 Jan 2019 touka
Emma Brigham
Strangers at the bar
I polish glasses with care
No one knows my name
 Jan 2019 touka
Emma Brigham
One month from today could be
your birthday.
In one month we could meet each other
for the first time.
Maybe in one month
I will be on all fours like an animal
and I’ll scream you into the world
and you’ll stop being just a dream.
You are a product of me,
within me.
You are mine
You are not mine
You will always be mine.
Through ripened flesh
and viscera you will unfold,
purple and milky,
bursting through a darkness,
limbs released into your father’s arms,
squeezed and wrinkled,
bright with pain,
having to relearn what it means
to be alive.
 Jan 2019 touka
Emma Brigham
I didn't know you were unhappy.
Somewhere
when the dishes sat drying in their rack
and the baby fell asleep,
like the rats neglected in their cage
I overlooked it.
Wrapped in weighted folds
of sleep deprivation,
headlights not yet through the fog.
 Dec 2018 touka
Lexie
Air
 Dec 2018 touka
Lexie
Air
To my eyes, it looked to be my last breath
My lungs will not give up as quickly
 Dec 2018 touka
plum
Past Midnight
 Dec 2018 touka
plum
• ° * • ° * • ° * • ° * • ° * • ° • °

She sleeps late at night,
Hoping he'd be awake for her

• ° * • ° * • ° * • ° * • ° * • ° *• °
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