may by Tom Disch
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i dream of you, do you dream of me?
why don't you take a stroll into my dreamscape. The metaphysical realm works both ways. /j
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Reblog if think trans people are neato
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rip oscar wilde you would’ve gone fucking insane over saltburn
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Devil's Son
When I was little my momma told me I was evil. She took and sat me under the steeple. Preacher said I was too far gone. She say's she's no Satanist so I can't call her mom
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Florida
The daycare, The office, The McDonalds.
That's what I remember.
I remember the car rides. I felt so important because you let me sit in the front seat.
I remember begging to go to the touch museum, and learning about the Water Cycle.
I remember watching Anaconda hundreds of times. I couldn't pronounce the title and screamed "Big Snake!" when I wanted to re-watch. You would laugh.
I remember napping under your desk and your boss's scary dog. I don't think he's so scary anymore.
I remember frozen pizzas, and red snow-cones, and egg Mcmuffins, but most of all.
I remember being your best friend.
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I'm Sorry
𝙼𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚘, 𝙼𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚘𝚛, 𝙼𝚢 𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚔.
𝙼𝚢 "𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚋𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙!"
𝙼𝚢 𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝙼𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛, 𝙼𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚌𝚔.
𝙼𝚢 "𝙶𝚘𝚍, 𝙸 𝚠𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙."
𝙼𝚢 𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚕, 𝙼𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎, 𝙼𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚔.
𝙼𝚢 "𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎, 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚌𝚔."
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Grammy
Your house used to feel like a dragon's hoard.
Glittering gold. Treasure trove.
Now I know those jewels only weighed you down.
Sordidly sinking. Barely breathing.
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Have I played the part well? Then applaud me as I exit.
- Augustus Caesar
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I finally get to see Marilyn.
- Joe DiMaggio
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F Words
Faith falling fatally .
Far from freedom,
Fear fabricated from fault.
Feelings feigned for flattery.
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Strawberries
I know you're allergic to strawberries,
So I'll wear strawberry lip gloss to your wedding.
Tinge these happy memories red.
I'll kiss your cheek in congratulations,
I'll smile knowing you'll finally know the feeling,
of a bitter farewell.
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Winter Diatribe
God, I hate the cold.
Freezing. Biting. Numbing.
Icy fingers,
Toes,
Hearts,
Eyes,
Always leads to even Icier sensibilities.
The flowers wilt and lay on frostbitten graves.
They will bloom again in Spring, but I will mourn them anyways.
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in limbo I lie awake
through the repetitious nature of confusion
finding myself tethered to a world unlike reality
a shapeshifter through many orientations
poem by me
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women
She pours the milk before the cereal
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I sit by my window and I come to realize that I don't know anything, will never know anything, and have never known anything in my silly little life.
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