₥ł₳₴₥₳
a limerick version of my slam piece ₲ⱠØⱤɎ.
In these moments do you even remember me, words on a downswing,
or are you looking right through my tremors to other things,
to other people like I'm a peephole to your past?
Why can't you see the way that you poison yourself and gas
me and everyone else around you when aņ̷͉̮̱̳̜̙̙̺̪̘́͐̏̒̽ͣͫ͌̓̆̒͋̈̍̂͂͊̈͞͞g̶̶̷͚͉͎̹̫̦̙̞̹̬̫̘̽̽ͪ͂̾̈́͊̏ͪͨ͊ͤ̓͆͗ͮ̽͜ͅe̴̷̦̞̫̺͆ͮ̅̒ͮͬ̚ȑ̵̛̞̗̤͉̖̫̱̝͎̈́̈́͛͊ͬ̎͐̄̂͜͝ l̵̶̛̲͎̱̦̪̟̥͔̟͓̣̹̍͆̍̊̑͐̔ͣ́̃ͭͭͤ̓̔ͣͩ̃̂͐ͤ͘͡͞ị̴̸̡̡̛̮̠̱̤̭͉͕̜̥̝͚̱̙ͪ́̌̈́̓͊͐ͮ̒͂̀͂̑̾͐̿̽̒̌̑ͧ͘͘͢͞͠͞ͅk̗̫̻͔̮͈͇̲͔̒́̑̓̌͟͠ȩ̨̥̻̳͇̭́͒ͥ̋͆͛ͨ̄́̄̿͘͘͟ m̵̵̴̷̨̺̟͖͖̰̜̺̙̩̹̘͓̭̋ͬ̀ͪ͐̏̂͆ͮ͐ͥ̍̉͐̽̍͒ͪ́̓̔͜͢i̶̵̡͇̬̩̜̤͖͚̪̇̓́ͬͪ͒͛̏̐́ͮ̐̿ͪͬ͂ͬ́͘̕͝͝a̙̪͙̮̘͎̥̮͋̌̿͛͒̆ͤ̉̂͋͆̈͘͡͡͝s̙ͯ̏̐ͮ̚m̴̨̨̺̳̓̓́a̶̦̳͖̯̫̰̻̖̹̟̭͔̓͐̒ͬ̏̐̉ͥ̊̈́̂̒ͥͦ̋͆ͣ̈́͛ͬ͊̂͡͝͠ c͖̱͎̋ͪͫ͂̀̓̎͘̚͢͝ļ̧͇̣̜̫̯͍̥̌ͨ́ͧ̄̉ͣ̀̍̾̋͆͑ͥ̃̈́̇ͭ̋͂͑̂̿̋͠ͅo̡̱͍̺̭ͨ͒̆͟u̴̧̮̼͎͓͙̭͖̱͒͐ͬ̌ͨ̾̈́̕͘͠ͅd̸̮̖̜̱̙̦͔͕̅́̎̒ͫ̐̔ͥ̃̾͗̄̅̚͘͢͡͝͞s̽ s̨̛̘͈̤͙͚̃̀̏̈̑͋ͭͯ͐ͨͯ͠͠i̯͎͍̱͂̇ͯ͋ͩ͑ͥ͠͠ņ͕̘̭̪͎ͨ̅̉͆͒ͭͤ̌ͦͧͧ͘̕͠g͇̤̀ͣs̜͉̻̥̿̿͐̍ͩ̏̒ͣͬ̀ͥ̽̌̕͠ͅͅ
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Enjoyed? Check out ₲ⱠØⱤɎ, the slam poetry piece this was based off of below:
About the Creator
R.C. Taylor
Part-time daydreamer. Full-time dork.
Follow along for stories about a little bit of everything (i.e. adventure, nostalgia, and other affairs of the heart, and anything else I want to honor and hold space for).
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