Posts
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Falling sky
falling sky, slowly, piece by piece
I've forgotten how to move, to breathe
all the truth I've ever known begins to cease
as I watch my world fall apart
time is ticking, while holding still
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The candle that makes dark retreat
When you’re gone I’ll think of every missed call
I’ll summon your sunny warmth and laughter
Without you, who will catch me if I fall?
Your stars always kept night lit long after
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HEADLINES
HEADLINES
Big words jumping out at you from creased paper, casually thrown on the counter, demanding attention
Meaningless opinions coated in fallacies
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Butterfly
A POEM BY MY SISTER <3:
dew drips from a leaf
a leaf that a little caterpillar walks on
it will soon be transformed
into a majestic pollinator
its climbs to a branch on a small tree
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you in my mind
When I clear my mind
I just push you down deeper
into my core
until I just can't tell the difference
between thinking you and feeling you
now you have become part of me
and I'm tired of falling
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Belle
I lived in a world where outer beauty is the only kind that people see. I’d rather observe it from a rocking chair at the library back home, bearing down on an incredibly scripted work of art.
Loves
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take the president and run
capture the old
to become the new.
kidnap the worse
to become the better?
better at running a country
that isn't even ours,
better at taking credit for
work that isn't his,
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Obscured By Clouds
From time to time random memories of my childhood resurface. Memories from when my mind was simple. From when I didn't bother to understand myself because I was too busy dusting up a pair of Nikes.
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Chance
VERSE #1:
Why can life be so hard?
Why can it leave you broken and scarred?
Why can the world be so mean?
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They taught each other happy
There was a girl.
Dancing with the little kids,
and smiling.
He,
the one watching her,
forgot what it was like to be happy like that.
She,
the girl,
reminded him.
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Moomins N Tea
I sit with a smile on my lips, my brother—Abu—
beside me as the kettle begins to sing.
Moomins fill the screen, hattifatteners too.
The TV light painting over my blue.
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Pomegranate
I’ve had pomegranates twice in my 17 years.
Each time, I was awed at how
something with such a mysterious foreign air
could hold so many intricate bursts of joy.
All I’ve got is the shell: