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writer • she/her
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I lie beneath an old moon it’s 4 a.m. the city streetlights are scattered like the stars I’ve been waiting for the sun to come up
By 3.33lbs3 years ago in Poets
stale emotions formed into a hardened mold a malleable material that sits like gravestone encasing everything too delicate
the train echoes in the distance throughout the empty city the same way my brain hums to drown out your name and as the raindrops sprinkle down my window
☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ ☼ solar flares and iridescent micro-structures perfectly radiating onto my bare skin this nostalgic type of warmth
i could spend lifetimes searching for some clarity beneath the wings of a perched bird signaling messages before taking flight