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It's still beating
and I'm tapping my feet in
time for a rest the change will
do me some good.

as I tire the neurons misfire
and I'm sure I heard
reach for the stars,
but
who's got arms that long?

So
it's a nightcap
not a flat cap
and with a mixer
that'll fix anything.
 Nov 11 Jill
Jimmy silker
When you're in the subterranean chamber
That must be quite the feeling
In that tiny bubble
Just above the ceiling
grows a hillock
O the local limestone
A hundred foot above
Topped by more o the same
Blocks two and a haf million strong
Times approx two and a haf ton per block
Could be six million ton all told.

I'd **** me self.
 Nov 11 Jill
Qualyxian Quest
Insignificance
  Persistence
   Postcards
That one final
  bullet
That one final
dagger
To use
on another
Or to use
— on ourselves

(Dreamsleep: October, 2024)
 Nov 11 Jill
Em MacKenzie
I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate,
I already pulled at my hair.
“It’s normal” he says
I swear just to debate,
cause he doesn’t seem to care.

And I’m bleeding through
my scar tissued skin,
the layers only grew
still I find a way in.

I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate,
I’ll be down to the last strand.
Check or fold the plays,
the cards aren’t that great
I’ll be down the my last hand.

And I’m bleeding through
my thick nice sweater.
It’s a shame as it’s new
and we’re reaching the cold weather.
It will stain the soft fabric
I may just grab the bleach,
but I always made it a habit
to always keep it just out of reach.

I’m getting greys
at an alarming rate
pretty soon I’ll be bald.
On hot coals she stays,
though she shifts her weight
and watches her soles scald.

And I’m bleeding through
my clogged and blocked pores,
and the remaining few
are becoming septic sores.
I’ll shed another layer
of a non-protective bubble,
and my hair will continue to get greyer,
I think I’m now in some trouble.
Starting to feel my age…
 Nov 11 Jill
Bekah Halle
One. All. Together.
Unconflicted;
Congruent,
Powerful.
 Nov 11 Jill
Mrs Timetable
Deal
 Nov 11 Jill
Mrs Timetable
The perpetual state
Of heart break
Never heals
It just learns
To deal
What hand have you been dealt?
 Nov 11 Jill
guy scutellaro
pocket full of pennies
rolling across the kitchen floor,
down the steps, out the door,

pennies running into the street
(and i'm right behind them.)

"where do you think you are going? and
I m feeling a bit embassed, so i whispered.
"you belong to me,

to keep or to throw away." and

there s a light tap on my shoulder,
and the policeman tells me,

"better find them soon
before they turn to rust,

I couldn't find mine
and I'm sure they turned into dust."

and the echoe from the hole
in my pocket shouts,
" his dreams are
trying to find the waterline."

i did find a few of them, a handful,
(I had swiped my hand as they tried to roll away)

I did grasp a few

but some of the other
pennies i threw into the air
where they may have fallen,
I know not where.
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