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My authenticity is seen as violence my heart is perceived defiance. When I sing the hymns of my soul what is heard by the many is a message of mutilation.

I am your reflection. // The last of the musings of May

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a couple days ago I was able to interview a friend of mine and writer, willy. this is our interview.

mt: how are you coping with the current situation we are living in? do you have a routine, if so what is it?

willy: sorry i was making a sandwich lmao, Honestly, I have been trying to do things that make me feel content, you feel me? Like right now, i’m trying to read more poetry and write more poems. It’s been rough, though, I haven’t really written anything, but I am trying to! Also Animal Crossing has been helping me out alot lol.

mt: what’s the process like for you to write a poem? is there a sort of procedure that goes into writing them or do you just go and face it head on?

willy: my procedure really depends on what I want to write about to be honest, as of now I usually write about my feelings and what kind of stuff goes through my mind, so I just take whatever I am feeling and try to write it out in a way that feels right to me you know? When I want to write about a specific topic, I usually take time to understand whatever I am writing about, I sort of meditate on a topic before writing about it.

mt: if you could describe your writing in 5 adjectives what would they be?

willy: i would say melancholic, emotional, real, relatable, and thought-provoking- or at least i try to be those things with my writing lmao

image

mt: if you were to give people advice during this time, what would you say to them?

willy: I would say that I understand that things might seem very bleak right now, and I understand how you might feel things won’t get better, but we just have to keep going. It’s hard as fuck, but the sun always rises the next day. Also PLEASE stay inside unless you absolutely have to go out.

mt: thank you for taking time to answer these bro

willy: My pleasure !


you can check out willy and his instagram full of poetry, hope it inspires you and gives you some words you can relate to: 

https://www.instagram.com/a_slowly_beating_heart/

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Oscar Wilde, The Canterville Ghost
Death must be so beautiful. To lie in the soft brown earth, with the grasses waving above one’s head, and listen to silence. To have no yesterday, and no tomorrow.
To forget time, to forgive life, to be at peace.
You can help me. You can open for me the portals of death’s house, for love is always with you, and love is stronger than death is.
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Moving through my paintbrush, laughter spills out in brushstrokes. Possessing my body wayward into dance, whispering waves melodiously envelop my heart. Page after page bathed in passion, sufferance, scenes seen and unseen.

Inspiration // May Musings.

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Your gleaning gaze turns you befuddled, enraptured by her fog over the rusted gates. She awakens with the dead, thrives with the lives long gone by.

Reminiscing about myself among Autumn’s embrace. // May Musings.

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oh wow, thank you so much, I’m so glad you liked it! x

contrarily, i do not have anyone I’m in love with. surprisingly, i have never actually been in love. not even once, despite having had several relationships and partners. i simply imagine what it must be like to be in love and i write on that :)

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you,

your fingers would dance over my skin like letters bouncing in poetry, your eyes would skim mine for the possibility of prose in your name, for words that you would seek comfort in. why do you look at me as if you were waiting for me to paint you in syllables and poetic phrases to beautify you? was it not enough that i signed off every emotion in my heart to your name? my love, my wrath, my every figment of existence, every thread that i hang upon—all in your name? your name is sprawled against my heart. my heart may be in pieces, but every vein spills blood with your name dripping off it. you’ve consumed me completely, love, and you search a poetification of yourself in my eyes? here. have it on paper. for permanence.

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Unless it breathes life into me, obliterates me in the flames of death’s kiss, or enthralls my body to mend with my soul, be away with it, won’t you?

Just a piece of something bigger. // May Musings.

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My belief in romantic love is everlasting. The absence of its existence for me is relieving annihilation. To have sought the rose and to have discovered its thorn, truly.

Romantic, enamored with love, not keen on connection(s) // May Musings

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