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#spilled ink

don’t answer the door

Thanks for the encouragement :)

don’t answer the door
I mean it
don’t tiptoe up to the porch
nor jangle your keys in the lock
ignore the insistent tap on the door
it’s not for you, it’s for someone who’s
long gone, so girl don’t answer the knock
they might start to pound on the wood,
with torches and pitchforks and guns
but don’t open the door, don’t let them in
they will not return what they have took
their shouts may carry up to the chimney
and down, past the skeleton lodged in the brick
and through the fireplace, as choking as ash
don’t listen, cover your ears
the wicked sirens they sing; turn away your head
run upstairs girl, hide under your bed,
draw the blanket close around
hide from them all, don’t answer the door
don’t answer the door
I mean it
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Bulb in a Cup

Traveling man with a torch 

turns it off 

when the night gets dark

and he don’t want to spot 

the sadness in your eyes 

silly girl 


bulb in a cup

bulb in a cup 

I shouldn’t bring this up 

take these bunch of words and give them meaning 

my lips are ripped my lungs are burnt

and I don’t know how 

I’m breathing

traveling men with a torch 

would slam it shut 

to use it like a hammer 

to accuse 

and abuse 

your faith 

when your knees are scarred 

and elbows ache

traveling men with a torch 

on four wheels 

parked in your street 

and when he knocks 

it’ll make you flinch 

for each time you didn’t blink 

silly girl


don’t sink

bulb in a cup 

bulb in a cup

I’d rather walk blind 

no torch too bright to ignite 

the poor night 

of you 

and I’ll go away with my light bugs and bolts

to keep them safe in a jar 

they’d rather suffocate 

but no torch should break 

for the lot like you

I pray there be 

a path for fools like me 

who wander with lanterns In the windy skies 

silly girls, dreamy eyes

bulb in a cup 

bulb in a cup

oh I’m afraid I’ll bring this up 


- m.

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I confine myself in my world, entering the depths of my soul, I discover myself before the invisible immensity that inhabits my being, everything and nothing merge into a single dimension, I explore the space that surrounds me … I AM

Quino ©


Me confino en mi mundo adentrándome en lo más profundo de mi alma, me descubro ante la inmensidad invisible que en mi ser habita, el todo y la nada se funden en única dimensión, exploro el espacio que me envuelve…SOY

Quino ©

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And the problem with my heart,

Is that it doesn’t know how to move on when something ends. You see, I do not love easily, but when I do love oh how deep it becomes. It dips down until it spills to the depths of my soul.

You see, I don’t mean for it to skip beats involuntarily whenever I hear your name come up in conversations. I am not naive, I know that as years pass you forget me the same way you would a book. Knowing the rough outline of the story but forgetting the specifics that made you love it in the first place, and as for me I don’t dream about you as often anymore.

But I’d be lying if I said the memories of holding you never slipped into my mind when I was distracted. It’s not that I’m trying to still care about you. Honestly, I think we both know that, but if you called me right now and told me that you needed me there I would be on the next flight In your direction.

And it’s not that I’m holding on to hope, understand that I know that we have grown to far apart to even claim to know each other anymore. And yet, that doesn’t convince my heart to stop caring about you.

- And maybe that’s why you don’t call me anymore, maybe you know me well enough to know that I’ll always unintentionally be waiting to answer you.

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you speak in soft daggers.
I put on my best performance for you.
I bleed and bleed and bleed,
throwing towels on the floor beneath me.
love is an insatiable wound that can’t be mended;
an affliction that will swallow me whole.
and though I am moribund,
I’m still apologizing for the mess.
I’m still thinking about the carpet.

I catch glimpses of you in spotted vision.
I hear your footsteps head towards the door.
I remembered to keep it unlocked this time.
the same love may never come twice,
but different love always leaves the same way.

- all ebb, no flow

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