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The Void

I am void

I AM the void

Darkness and nothing at once

But to some i am something

There are those who know me

A chaotic trickster

Others who know me

A fierce shadow dragon

To one i am

Kitten, little one, his girl, his love, his world

There are those who know me

A name i would soon forget

And those who know me

A name i won’t regret

For though i am the void

Made of darkness and nothing

I actually have all of these things

I am all these things and many more

Because there are those who saw the void

They said “you are more”

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@everydayfix, “Miss you here, today and everyday.”
Stop, let go.
When letting go, stop.

Remember that time you took me to the mall
and I lost my favorite stuffed elephant
somewhere between god knows where and a spiral of stores that looked exactly the same and not at all?

Sprinting one way only to second guess and sharp turn into the next,
fresh waves of panic starting before the last wave even had a chance to stop.

Start, stop, pivot, backwards, forward, not this way, maybe that way.

Finally spotting something short of a miracle in the parking lot
a little squished, a lot of wet and filled with the kind of experiences that can’t be repeated.

Relief spreading across your face,
tears barely a blink away waiting to race down my face.

This is how I remember you.
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I take up the spade, slicing the lush grass, upturning clods of dirt sewn by root threads, the distinct sound of surrender slashes the stalled humid night, rocks I unearth are meticulously pyred, their puzzle-fit a testament to my persistence and patience, four feet down I forgo the use of the spade, continuing my work on my hands and knees, on my belly when I begin to tire, my nails broken and bloody, my hands unrelenting in their toil, gouging the earth slowing to a scraping, my fingers cramped, my bruised body caked in sweat-made mud, finally halting, wracked with heavy breathing, I’m night blind and lost to the phosphenes, the rattle that stutters my lungs, gives a momentary cardiac arrest that resets my respirations and gives me the surge of revival, slowly rolling on my back, my hand instinctively splaying my stomach, and I watch as the stars float free of their atmospheric restraints, flashing a bioluminescent romance language of L'été that enchants me with distant memories of innocence, I foetal myself to preserve the moment and find myself longing for the comfort of a bedsheet, the thin layer of protection from spying satellite eyes, they’ll record me vulnerable and leak the secret, I toe the edge of anxiety, until the moony haze of honeysuckle pales my fears, and I’m lost to the memory of dusty quarry shelves cobwebbed in honeysuckle vines, I can bury myself one hundred times over and I’d still be me, I can’t rewrite the history, nor his going away, I can bed down under moss and become a maze of nourishment for arachnids and night crawlers, but I’m not the dead, so I pull myself up and climb out my grave, scooping the dirt back in, I feel a tug of reluctance, the fear of relinquishing a half to me, sitting and sifting the dirt atop my plot of earth, I decide it’s time to seed my grief and allow time to take its course, and the strangest of things happened, from that sorrow and my toil, sprouted a new species of happiness, to which I tended…

Juniper Francis Lee. June 2019

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…a sweet scent that beckons tender lips to draw near…your fringe are forked tongues, quick to morph to viper fangs, softly puncturing with a milky venom of quiet numb and stuttered heart… …your centermost folds, coiled as an ear that you lend to whispers, to secrets, to hidden depths of the psyche, thoughts of both friends and foes and ills of self… …a steady hand, respecting of your lethal, bids you the care you need, the distance you desire and require… …tending to you, I speak of your growth and beauty, I acknowledge the pain you’re capable of in my gestures, but continue with the care of you, deserving and rewarding…the truth of you…at the forefront of my mind is that which makes you deadly, that which bestills my heart with your addition to my garden…that which keeps me returning, learning…about the truth of you, the truth in me… …

Juniper Francis Lee. Oleander. June/2019

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I drove towards the burning bright, glinting off glass was every mistake I’d ever given time and additional thought, the familiar winding road became a catalyst for visitation, and as I felt the tug to look at the rear view mirror for what was in chase, I shattered the setback, set forth in a flurry of milkweed down, floating freely with no direction, afternoon sun setting fire to the green of grass and leaves… …I lay beneath the oleander lances, the evening rain a slow free form rhythm, building intensity, the clouds in methodical Rorschach morph, gray on gray on white trumpets, dripping a deadly sweet cleanse, lacing my vision and speech in the toxicity of nature’s beauty, giving reach to the hedge that divides the living from the dead… …Under windows of stars and a near absent moon, a scream escaped from the ruins of gables and stone, an answer seeking its question, my head awakened with language in a whispered reverse, my body aware of a beastly hunger, the wind calling forward…I tread…

Juniper Francis Lee. May2019

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i’m scared. i’m scared of the dark. i’m scared of monsters under my bed. i’m scared of public speaking. i’m scared of seeing my parents fought at night when they thought i was sleeping. funny that i’ve always been scared of little things and you, my best friend, told me that the scariest thing in the world is never scary and i didn’t believe you but you hugged me and told me it was okay to be scared because you’ll always be here for me. and then we grew up and you found new friends and a line of people waiting to date you and left me all alone with bad excuses because we both knew you couldn’t lie. and we drifted further apart and i stared at my phone that night, wanting to call you but didn’t, watching it slowly turn to weeks then months then years. i did some self healing then and when i saw your name on my screen for the first time in forever, i was reluctant to pick up. i did anyways, not because i wanted to renewed our already damaged friendship but because in the span of a few years, i’ve grown to move forward and stop living in the past. but from your call, i can hear the sound of loud music blasting in the back, the giggles of girls sitting next to you and your friends cheering and yelling and swearing. you told me you were sorry and that you regretted ending our friendship so harshly but i told you it was okay and take care of yourself because i realise now that while i worked hard to move forward, you’re still stuck in the past.

— like you said, the scariest thing is never scary but the things you thought weren’t scary…are. // @marina-grace

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i wish to take you somewhere safe, somewhere far away from bad things and bad people who want to hurt you. i wish to take away your pain and that numb feeling in your chest when your friends and their parents walked pass you. i know i may not be your lover nor someone you’d consider close but my intentions are purer than both. is it wrong to want to help? is it wrong to not want to be that someone that sees someone else’s pain and doesn’t do anything about it? because i didn’t once and that person grew up to be someone they never thought they’ll be. is it even wrong to wish it would be different for you?

— people say love can change a bad person but a person without love is just someone suffering alone because they thought they needed someone to make them feel enough. // @marina-grace

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funny how i can’t give the same energy back of someone making efforts for me

i know he’s struggling for i keep on pushing him away

away from me

i am very selfish for I can’t seem to give it back,

the same energy he gives away for me

so freely

so easily

i felt worthless for i can’t make myself try

but i am trying

so hard

funny how i onced wished for this very moment to happen

and now

here it is,

right in front of me

and yet here i am

doing nothing,

what ever happened to me?


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Have you ever contemplated how effing messed up the world is? People dont get what they wanted, but what they deserve. Money is runs the world. Two lovers you though were really meant to be are falling apart and eventually separate with so much hatred than when they kicked off their insanely romantic adventure. Yes, it is very unfair, and I hate it.

But the world can also be generous. Understanding family and parents. The sound of genuine laughter. Crying to a friend when something good has happened. Love. Hope. Standing up for what you believe in. All these things, though simple enough, make life a little bit bearable and I’m thankful.

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