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Poem
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poem
Stories
This Poem Is Not About Dying.
from the very beginning, I had been watching myself
Right?
skull cracking throat scratching echoes unheard
It's Alright, It's Alright
stop talking to me like you need to keep talking to me.
lungs wanting, lips apart
you breathe so hard lungs wanting, lips apart
Till I Met a Friend
i left myself, till i met a friend who walks by me, sits with me
drud, brud, bud
dude, your head hit mine with a broken scratch it cracked in half
To Curl My Wrists
I don't want to say anything anymore i want to curl my wrists in an acute angle I want to arch my back inwards, or until I swallow my tongue
That Other Place
the one in the mirror told me, i missed you for how long have you missed me? i asked
Mirt
a pink bird flew into my room at noon, it began cursing me out, and told me its name was Mirt
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