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jmt1992
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jmt1992
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vultures
vultures circle my tea & i am postponed from drinking from the well. i take my mouse in hand, and click it, feed it to the vultures who give me nothing but time.
shotgun
I held a shotgun to my head (like everybody else) but instead of shooting it, I ate it whole. I slipped on wallpaper until my feet could no longer walk. I ate the shotgun and my wallpaper feet were satisfied.
steel
Steel, like wool, I lie naked, a nail on top of a carton of eggs. Slowly, I sift up until I am nothing, everything. In between my toes, I hustle to the next one.
departure
Departure. When we depart for Cambodia, I have no idea how I'm going to feel. Excited, yes. But will my medication be able to come along? I don't know if I'm stable enough for this. I'm not sure if I want to go.
support
You supported me through everything in your own odd way. When I told you I was bisexual, you thought I had said gay.
tracking
The tracking device was imbedded in every person at the time of their birth. It was used to make sure they did everything right. Pay your taxes. Do your chores. Get good grades. One wrong move, and... zap.
slip
When she slipped and fell she wasn't embarrassed. She got up and continued walking down the aisle toward the royals. They would hate her more if she started crying and ran away. Their respect for her was low enough already without her showing such emotions.
entirety
we are all one making up the entirety of the universe; we're nothing, we're the same. she sleeps and thinks of fairy queens, and knows the tales are true.
mechanism
the mechanism by which I write poetry is not my brain nor my heart it's something deeper, something that's not just me, but all everything the mechanism by which I write poetry is the universe, the universal oneness
trumpets
I hate trumpets: the blaring sound of marching bands where supposedly everyone is a dork but at my school they were all rich in order to afford their stupid trumpets and i hated them especially during the freezing warm performances.
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