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jack Mar 2019
i’m sorry. i’m a phoenix with ash for blood. i’m a walking tragedy. i’m a travesty. i’m a shadow of what i dreamt to be. i’m a heartache shaped as a human being. i’m someone who survived but never truly experienced what it’s like to be alive.

i’m sorry. i’m a ticking time-bomb. i’m a veteran without physical scars. i’m a pretty vase stuffed to the brim with dead roses and spiky thorns. i’m beautiful and broken — shattered, actually, way past repair.

i’m sorry. i’m the collateral damage no one gave a **** about. i’m the byproduct of humanity’s downfalls and weaknesses. i’m the mess no one wants to pick up. i’m the dust building up on your picture frames.

and i’m sorry.

i’m so, so sorry.
Bohemian Mar 2019
Yesterday,
By the flank passing by,
I saw a clan,
With a master child,
He flew the kite higher and high,
Running errand,
With his head unpliant,
His nose at apex,
As if the zenith,
Egging were his pals.
No,
He fell not,
Just was his kite that flew away.
I wonder how different are we,
We who don't stray,
And have no time,
I never learnt how to fly,
Or to give a kite one flight.
Based on certain days
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