notice how all poetry, usually the good stuff
begins with a verb. suggested action?
end with a conclusion, some action then ended, at rest.
this I scribbled on my bright yellow paper, on the train, back from Brooklyn. This of course is not that, just words.
loss words stirred inside
the thickness of my language
atached ambiguous
so much so that
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Comments 6
please do.
you deserve to love yourself.
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thanks, mang.
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i especially like this one:
Over the past
two years, I've learned that strength is just a process of shutting
down. Strength is a way that we get through things by detaching
ourselves from what hurts. Fuck that.
i love you. xoxo
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I must not fear.
Fear is the mind-killer.
Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.
I will face my fear.
I will permit it to pass over me and through me.
And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path.
Where the fear has gone there will be nothing.
Only I will remain.
Mmmmm ... sci-fi-self-help
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I will spank it.
I will murder it with cookies and milk.
Hopefully then it will go away.
And...hopefully people won't stop teaching me these things.
Thank you.
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