i woke with a longing for you to pour your golden light down my throat as if molten lead to coat my chest in your ethereal magic joy
i woke with an urge to use an exactoblade to rearrange my fingerprints so i could adopt a new identity better suited to life
i woke with a need to to use a long silver needle to pop both eardrums in an attempt to silence a silent world of absent screams
both sides of this bed on fire are the wrong one so no matter how i approach the situation i can see all of my issues in large bold type
i woke still exhausted but unwilling to give another moment to tossing about, to restless need haunting the belfry in my skull
i woke, but there was not nearly enough sleep to make it count, i woke with an urge to fall asleep just to search in dream for you
Beautiful. My heart! oh my heart!!
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thanks, Tara. Mornings can get you like that. This morning feels like another.
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Sad and beautiful
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i’m gonna pretend you mean the poem.
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