Posts
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Cloud
Floating in the sky
Like white fluid still in time
But moves in slow grace
Swirled with a brush by an oil painter
Yet sculpted with regality of wood
A whisper full of substance
An illusion of support
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Rotting with the Milk Can
I rot in here now
Along with the old milk can
In the garbage bin.
Your love too
Has expired just like
The milk can.
Now I rot
With the milk can and
Your spoilt love.
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Marionette Haiku
My marionette,
Dancing to another's tune,
I thought it was mine?
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24/7
24/7 running in my head,
not a moment of peace and constant
restlessness.
24/7 walking to a beat,
a pressurizing pulse to synchronize
every action with a piece whose name
I can't recall.
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Art
Choose a piece of art, and write about it. Maybe its a story as to what happened, or how it makes you feel. What exactly was the artist communicating through the art, and do you agree?
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Music
Write about your favorite song or piece. How does it make you feel? What do you see in your head when you listen to it? What exactly makes that song or piece your favorite?
Loves
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A small, insignificant memory
I remember
in third grade
we had a group chat
and everyone was talking to each other on their school emails -
this was back when the school hadn't removed G-chat yet -
and you were spamming the chat
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not prescribed
live in the moment
i'm trying so hard to look
at you
and not to think of the possibilities i know
i can't have,
all the things you rejected the moment
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Cloud
Floating in the sky
Like white fluid still in time
But moves in slow grace
Swirled with a brush by an oil painter
Yet sculpted with regality of wood
A whisper full of substance
An illusion of support
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We Are All Made From Each Other.
I am out at night because I can’t stand myself.
People are milling on the street. Nobody looks at me. They all look at each other as they pass, and the lights decorate their faces to be tall and luminous.
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Midnight Haircut
It is midnight and I am getting a haircut on the lawn.
I am tired, but I shiver with excitement.
Gentle hands tug and snip at my curls,
And as they fall they take root in the grass.
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I made tea
I made tea this morning.
I put the leaves in, watching the steam dance with childlike wonder.
I returned to my laptop, staring at a half finished chapter, the bags under my eyes more apparent than ever.