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Strung Jun 14
I’m thinking all my charcoal thoughts—
Scorching on my mind—
I’m thinking all my crumbly words
Are worth the dark’s dull time
I sit here in the dark
And watch the embers burn
The feelings of the faces here
Mean nothing in the urn.
I sit against cold tiles,
Hiding in the dark
The fire burns me inside out
I’m alone, I’m hurt.
I sit deep in the fire
I have no more bones to give
All my blood is boiling
And my eyes have all but caved
I sit here in the fire
And think my charcoal thoughts
I want nothing else to do
With anything but dust.
Burn the legs and up the arms
I’m done with walking free
Burn the brain, the heart, the soul
I retire to the dream.
Strung Jun 5
Do you notice?
Jumbling tumbling out of line
With glasses pressed to nose
Too scared to show my eyes
Nervous tick of pressing them
closer into skin
As if it hides me...
—I guess it does
Because who would speak
To someone without eyes?
Confidence building is a *****
Strung Apr 29
I should have gone to bed instead of
Speaking out of turn
And forcing them to listen
To hours of unnerve
If you find yourself so trapped with me,
Just plug your ears and wait
I tire of the voice I have
I tire of the weight.
Words are endless, are they not?
As if they don’t catch fast
When thoughts I have refuse to bring me
Further from the past.
Promise me you’ll listen?
You’ll push past all the noise?
I need to speak, I need to shout
And I need in me your poise.
Pointless was my favorite word
To scream inside my head
Until I found these words in me
To fight my faceless friend.
I know I’m here to be someone,
Stay here, I’ll find out who
Until then, stay and hear me
As my poems shuffle through
Strung Apr 17
It’s supposed to be spring
So where are the flowers?
The brightest of stars
Bringing beautiful laughter
It’s supposed to be warmer,
The air clearing up,
It’s supposed to be calm
as budding blossoms come up
It’s supposed to be spring,
So why am I cold?
Why am I hollow and caved like a hole?
If it’s supposed to be spring,
Then where are my flowers?
My laughter my love and my beautiful chapters?
If it’s supposed to be nice, if I’m supposed to be done
Then why do I feel like just flesh without bone?
If it’s supposed to be spring
And I’m supposed to be blooming,
Where is the sun to erase my cold brooding?
Why am I empty
And frozen throughout?
Am I missing my springtime by having this drought?
My flowers have settled
To stay in the ground...
I’m sorry, my spring never showed up this round.
Strung Apr 13
Take my words in sections
Held—breast-pocket poetry—in times
When I keep my heart between my ears
My poetic little lines.
When you hold them in your pocket,
At least I know they’re heard
I dont want to die alone without you having heard my lifeless words

Steal my words
I work so hard
To make them sound like honey.
Sweeter till you listen
Then it sticks unpleasantly

Ask me to explain,
no one ever does
They are not simply stanzas
Not rhyming lines of empty thoughts

Hold my words like glass
I’ll take them back I swear
I don’t want to have to tell you
You broke my heart somewhere
Strung Feb 7
I just keep thinking
It will end.
But we create
And feed them
With silence
Strung Jan 30
You can’t stand to see me.
It’s okay,
I’ve put it
In the locket I keep
Deep in my heart—
The chains
Scraping my lungs;
It’s why I can’t speak.
It’s okay,
I hurt you
And you hurt me
And it’s okay.
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