5 hrs in the car means time to work on new and old poems
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rd of a poem i’m working on
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i can’t sleep anymore so i decided to sketch on this canvas so i can try oil painting for the first time 🙃 this is a snippet of what i have so far
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flung to the earth from the sky
like any unwanted thing
born with a broken wing
you arrive
with the clouds still in your eyes
on the doorstep of a church
offered up
like a sacrificial lamb
held up by a mother
whose sins you are
already paying for
a newborn
with the shakes
in the heat of July
but you will burn your whole life
forever running -
to the next cure
or redemption
because
something in you aches all the time
you are sick
and in desperate need of saving
but you will die
a thousand times over
before ever admitting this
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flung to the earth from the sky
like any unwanted thing
born with a broken wing
you arrive
with the clouds still in your eyes
on the doorstep of a church
offered up
like a sacrificial lamb
held up by a mother
whose sins you are
already paying for
a newborn
with the shakes
in the heat of July
but you will burn your whole life
forever running -
to the next cure
or redemption
because
something in you aches all the time
you are sick
and in desperate need of saving
but you will die
a thousand times over
before ever admitting this
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“Mad Girl’s Love Song” by Sylvia Plath, born today in 1932
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“How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To rest and trust; to give your soul in confidence: I need this, I need someone to pour myself into.”
— Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath
(via adrasteiax)
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