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Insomniac Storm Warning
I’m too old and cold and tired to have time to imagine things like fate and deities and predetermination; karma is privilege of the good, and the universe is just a mass of angry gas
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Again.
In the middle of the night he is lit from behind, the glow of the hall light shining through his skin and I want to ask him all the things that end in Yes, the things that someone else with better words and softer, paler edges could spin into the silk of romance and something…
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Shot Gun.
This is where they’ll find you tattered and sore what did you think would happen when you opened (your mouth your eyes) your legs? This is where they’ll find you, painted on smile, don’t open your mouth (your eyes your legs) he’s always been a good boy I heard he had a perfect credit score.…
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Keyboard Revolution
In a month or so, we’ll all line up heel toe heel toe bootstraps high and tight against our shins so as not to betray the fact that we are privileged to be here; we will stack ourselves in tidy rows and parcel out our tiny pencils we will color in the circles very carefully…
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2017: Depression Ate My Brain
I wish the years were neatly separate, distinct like they are on paper segmented like an earthworm you can tear apart and watch the old parts writhe and bleed
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Dog Days
Maybe it’s the heat, the dog days smuggling water in through your pores and into your lungs, drowning you inside your skin forcing out your breath in labored syllables It could be the dark, creeping in an inch at a time until one day, driving home you take your eyes off of the road and…
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Scribble.
And in the middle of this, there are lines drawn in chewed-paper crayons and apple-red lipstick, in pencils with metal eraser bands sharpened and cruel, in the sand on the sidewalk outside a long-outgrown day care’s fenced playground with a stick, dragged behind carelessly In the cracks of the mirrors, the anger-creased palms, the wrinkles…