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cleo Apr 2019
in a space of collection stood
bright walls with wooden clocks
and jumbled records, on white carpet
with citrus candles, below
silk scarves and
photos of the sky.

bland candles
next to unread books
and sterile walls, which towered
broken clocks and thinning fabric.
This silent space, was
built by a deliberate, empty hand
cleo Apr 2019
open mishaps
of hurried instance
into eternity's lips
now folded
from rearranging shifts
cleo Oct 2018
a word of  advice
don't take it from strangers
cleo Oct 2018
i am immune.

a blackened burn
white as mist
shattered bones learn
they resist
a swelled bruise

my mind
to time's chains
cleo Oct 2018
we raised our glasses
to the light
and eyes mismatched.
then i looked
at his hand
clung tightly,
around the silver glass
cleo Oct 2018
her words
were rainbow birds
chirping light
and i was dazzled

inside, i find feathers
detatched and *****
without body

her rattled, twisted words
taken from the world
on open and unknowing skies

and i listen to the lies
cleo Oct 2018
there were nice things
and i was sure
that it was sufficient
why wasn't it?

i was surrounded
by nice things
and no one came
just me
and then she left.
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