Posts
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Deliver Her Unto Me
Fields of stone angels,
depictions of divine sorrow,
stained with wetness,
cracked and crumbling,
aged terribly and unkept,
shake beneath my hand
and weep into grave soil.
She went too soon.
She was just a child. -
Who The Hell Told You That?
People can change.
People can initiate change.
Who says they can't?
The world can change.
The world must change.
Who says it can't?
We're not incapable. -
Infernal Dame
Love is a flame carried inside,
a flame that I cannot hide,
a spark that could start an infernal war,
and with you, Angel, I carry this flame.
I do not wish to burn alone
for I am but flesh and bone, -
What Are You Thinking About?
There’s nothing more beautiful
or so righteously undutiful
than what people think inside their heads. -
Spirit Mother
If you dig your fingers into the soil,
feel the cold and damp Earth,
you can grasp onto Her hand.
If you bend with the great oaks,
hearken ye their wind song,
you can paint Her vast sky.
If you crumble with the harvest leaves, -
Playing the part
At night, I’m terrified of falling asleep
because I don’t know what horrors are inside.
I may be young, but I can understand them.
I dress in dark colors and wear chains and chokers.
Loves
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Hair
It was Thanksgiving 2024, and my mom, my aunt, and I were tasked with one of the most grueling challenges in all of human history.
“You’re my sisters! You’re supposed to do this for me!” my uncle shrieked.
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Bookish
I'm most likely to spend all night reading
and then regret it the next day.
I'm the most likely to bring cookies for my friends
just to be the only one who likes them.
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second priority
I've never felt second best,
Being a twin, you get asked a lot of questions:
"Who's older?"
"Who's smarter?"
"Who's the favorite?"
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My True Home, Vermont
Being a Vermonter is spending six months of the year wearing a jacket.
Being a Vermonter is running outside in nothing but leggings and a sweater, thinking it’s springtime when it hits 47 degrees.
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MY RIGHTS
"You want your rights?"
"Come and get it," said the snake.
It was wrapped around a tree
in the confines of his tail,
a paper labeled "YOUR RIGHTS."
I stared up at the snake,
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Ice cream
Sickly sweet,
Your words touch my prefrontal cortex
Like soft burning snow.
Your touch tastes sweeter
Than ice cream
On a humid sun-streaked day.
You,
Frost-borne by the north wind,