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She called me a beautiful, talented              a r t i s t.
but I shook my head and
called her a              
           m a s t e r p i e c e .
I think I could fall in love again.
 Jan 2015 Tyler Durden
Devon Webb
The longest day
I've ever known
was the one I
wasted
waiting
for you to miss me
 Jan 2015 Tyler Durden
Devon Webb
You're not
worth my
poetry
 Jan 2015 Tyler Durden
Devon Webb
I'll give you a moment to
pick up your life
and then we'll see if
I'm in your hands or
still on the
floor.
 Jan 2015 Tyler Durden
Devon Webb
We are critical.

We find flaws in
everything we see
because nobody
wants to write
about perfection,
even though sometimes
we wish we could just stay
staring into that
unblemished surface.

2. We are never satisfied.

We live our lives upon
mountains of
scrunched up
bits of refill and
ideas we gave up
trying to
express.

3. We never forget.

We write words about
eye contact made
three months ago
that we replay over
and over in our minds
even though it
stopped
being relevant.

4. We are fickle.**

Our emotions flash
from one
to the other
like strobe lighting that
disorientates us
until we feel as if
the world
will never be still.

5. We are exposed.

We don't know how
to keep our feelings
to ourselves so
we'll write them
down for
you to find
'accidentally'.

6. We are vulnerable.

We wear our
hearts on our sleeves
and won't lift a
muscle to fight back
if somebody tries
to break it
because we thrive
from the pain.

7. We will never stop.

We will never stop
feeling and
we will never stop
hurting,
we will never stop
breaking and
bleeding and
loving
even though the cycle
is endless
and we know what's
coming next.


We are addicted
to agony,
but we agonise
for the art.
It's worth it though.
happy new year-
may your days be
long-lasting and
never-ending
. }haha, get it? you'll never ******* s l e//e p. you'll lie awake every ;night, bottle of scotch and a phone bill that's l  o n , g overdue (you only got away with it so long 'cause you've been sleeping with your network *service provider) in your palms and wish you were a <child< again.

*new year, new (me)*'
chúc mừng năm mới : happy mew year in vietnamese form
she was like a thread-bare
cotton sweater; she needed to be turned  inside//out when w:ash*ed.
kui ta oli number viis : if she was number five in estonian form
old age g)
(rows fa.

s*t.
täysikasvuinen : grown in finnish form
like summer rain,
she osculated flames.
[my feeble attempt at rhyming.]
галт тайван : fiery calm in mongolian form//osculate: to kiss
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