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I want to buy you every Forget-Me-Not
so that my name's the only one you remember.

I want to drive down highways, backroads, and forgotten paths, picking those wildflowers that you love.

Lilies and hydrangeas, and all the other fleeting pretty things,
I want to give them all to you.

After collecting every flower, and setting your world into
a wild bouquet, I want to just be there, with you.
Wrote this for an old flame once upon a time, since she lived too far away for me to just give her flowers.
Mountains are folded napkins
laid out on the cloth of the world
remnants of a picnic
that finished long ago
Her feet as light as a feather
At her own pace, moving at her leisure
Her toes making ripples in the water
Gliding over the substance as slow as a saunter
She stares at her reflection as it ripples away
She plunges her hand in and the water will obey
Water trickles through the cracks her cupped hand
Everything about it she can understand
Her only friend, companion, that listens to her every demand
Smiling to herself, she feels grand
~17/3/21
Sometimes I like to imagine I have superpowers, but it's all just a fantasy.
I can’t draw,
but I paint

I still sin,
but a saint

I talk best
when I’m mute

All I’ve lost
in pursuit

I begin
at the middle

And end
at the start

To give back
to the silence

This thing
—we call art

(The New Room: March, 2021)
the clouds say hi
mosaic sky
invigorating petrichor
satisfied sigh

worms come to breathe
sea and land bequeath
downcast children wanting more
sky a gloomy wreath

go out in the rain
and feel life on your skin
energy made lucid
earth's spirit within
what is rain, if not the heavens showing us proof of their existence?
stainless steel and skin
do make the worst of friends
the friction
the senses
survive and protect

will love always leave
is light simply a lie
stainless
steel blades
play god and death defy

electric is my mind
my heart is numb and small
senses
just lave
Over walls cold and tall

am i just worth not
the love ; you're unaware.
doesn't
hurt much
i'll go deeper so you care

my mind only filled
with endorphins happy red
pockets
of proof
of life; the raccoon fed

stainless steel and skin
do make the best of friends
buzzing,
living.
the cuts and seams i penned
the journey of self harm - from the time you use it when you're sad, to the time it's your only source of happiness
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