there was rain
achromatique

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I started writing a story last night

It probably sucks, though. I wrote after I took my sleep drugs, right before bed. It has no clear ending, either. Everything I write is about girls.

×   3 notes  #  writing  ranting  it's nice outside  

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With a hopeless sigh, he sat down

I realize now that
I’m just an old, despondent fisherman
casting my line into an empty sea;
gallons of toxic waste engulfed the lake
and stole all the fish from me.

×   4 notes  #  writing  poetry  I'm on a roll  

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Time to kill

what’s there to do but to die
and be reborn as a raccoon
who eats your garbage
and fatefully, one spring day,
gets caught between your
front left tire and the road?

×   1 note  #  I write at night  writing  poetry  

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Aerosolize

it’s like we live inside the walls
we always whisper when we talk
inhaling dust, exhaling coughs.

I’m entirely obscured as you fluoresce.

nothing occurs when you’re away
our lives run on a taped delay
the same old corpses, fresh decay.

I tried to make it hold, but I digress.

×   5 notes  #  writing  poetry  

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MESs

on your greatest day, you blocked out the sun.
we’ve seen worse, yeah
we’ve seen worse.
wordless and blinking
banned from the funeral
a needle in the thigh and the blush on your cheek.

×  #  writing  

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Gaia

a stagnant backwash ruminating on my palate
we are the sorry people
I woke up with my skin grafted to the bedsheets
you bloom
you’re flush, you flourish, you’re a lyric.

×  #  writing  

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The narrows

we hang from ceilings like burnt-out chandeliers
our limbs rustle like leaves, as the breeze creeps
down from your neck like a gentle finger on soft skin.

×  #  writing  

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Method or procedure

find success in love
the potential effervesces beneath your skin
walk the line
stay the course
remain in the queue.
find success in impression
appear to exist
collect the things you pine for and lock them in a room
your heart is aflutter.
go out into the world
go out into a world without regulation
go out, into the world, and get murdered.
find success in sleep

×  #  writing  

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Surviving in an Avalanche

I’m having trouble letting the sun in
it’s a struggle for me to let the cold leave.
I’ve tried blankets and quilts and old afghans
but it just curls up inside, it won’t let me be.
I’ve struck at this flint a thousand times
but I can’t seem to light the match to smoke it out.
you told me stories of surviving in an avalanche
and now I know what you had warned me about.

I will abominate this glacial grasp
and this eternal freezing will sing its swan song.
I will send this aimless wanderer
back up into the firmament for it to die.
and it will die.

×  #  writing  poetry  

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