Posts
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And Yet
There’s a canyon under the road I travel
Always waiting, unseen
I, unaware as the bridge swayed to break
And under me lured a truth
Something there, I felt
But its steep cliffs fall question -
Very odd poem on young adulthood
The decrepit trees stick up from the swamp upstairs, discarded hairbrushes with the bristles too brittle and broken. It’s the second doorless frame on the right. -
right back down
(Camels Hump mtn)
The summit were miles become minuscule
Is a blue fade of a pinprick from fresh cut grass and gravel home
As you stand there and ponder
That you stood atop said such dome -
Real
*trigger warning: dysphoria
A short memoir on finding your truth -
Isolated
Delicate fringes of mannered creamy stitches drape across
Purposeful tan extremities and the careful fingers of time spent with nail polish and rich money in toe, stroking
Silky curls which -
The avoided pond
I fold restless legs underneath myself and connect more of myself to the soft red pine needles and well-trod dirt, the rest of our group in similar states of settling down. The sarcastic comment as we viewed the dark pond sticks in my mind.