Posts
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an encounter with a mortal angel
the past presents itself
in the future. clear as the sight
from the edge of land to near infinity.
salty-peppered ashes are laid gingerly
with the longing bitter-sweet taste
of this drifters forgotten someday. -
Exulansis
I don’t remember
Falling, but I still have
The scars from when I
Touched the hollow earth,
And I screamed Bloody Mary
For God to save me.
How did you build me?
Did you ransack essence from unholy angels, -
memento mori
i wish to be a poet
and run away with my love,
so it can be preserved like
our innocence before the
corruption seized it like dogs.
i wish to be a poet,
so biding time seems less like -
waxy ashes
You were the last flickering candle in
A world full of wind.
The ego grew while your pliant body melted
With your chared wick.
Merely a fragment of the sun, small yet destructive. -
if i died tonight
(part 2 of if i were to die tonight)
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if you were to die tonight
i would ask you
how the wind felt
when it caressed your face.
did you fall in love with it?
the same way i did
when your rosy lips
softly brushed my own,
or when you whispered
Loves
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Class on how to be 18
Growing up is scary
So far I don’t like it all that much
I am expected to know
What I want to be in perfect detail
I have to learn how to drive
Without being afraid of the big trucks
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Before the World Even Existed
She imagines the universe,
the world suspended in midair.
Before, nothing except possibility even existed.
The Milky Way, Earth, evolution–shimmer and dematerialize.
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Birdwatching
meet me in the dream where the windows open onto bird flight
with sparrows flitting shadows across the room,
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The power of the feminine
I believe that femininity is power. I was born a girl, and even though I know now that I am more fluid than the word “girl” can contain, I am still feminine. I am feminine because I choose to be.
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God
As children we are taught God was the big man in the sky
He who watches over, tall and overbearing
Thorns stapled to his head and bleeding, he was resurrected for us
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November death
It’s stick season
again.
The leaves have passed and gone.
Spirits ran rampant through our world for one night.
It’s not yet the Feast