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a moth mistook my lamp
for the moon,
and broke itself
believing
the light was love.
ive always found moths melancholic. perhaps they embody the essence of delusion that we cling onto.
The night fills my lungs.
As the jasmine blooms so sweet.
Fireflies in a jar.
When you
Trapped in triangle
The default
Is to panic
The chance to escape
Down to
Terrible angles
Bounce sharp
And hard
Off of
Acute dense sides
Then sink
As pulp
As gravity
Revives.
Time can set you back.
It can tie your hands together.
Till you're all wound up.
We could say so much.
But your kiss did the talking.
And I talked right back
What was I thinking.
Tried to reason with my cat.
She cat walked away.
All these pranks you play.
On me, in front of your friends.
They're harmless you say.
God forbid they're played on you.
Then there would be hell to pay.
I'm tired of worrying if
I'll eat my words one day,
say too much; love too

much

I would rather regret
what I said over what
I can no longer say
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