favor. flavor. carved into one another like size varying blossoms in freedom better off strung together as truth
and here our tongues are
tied

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favor. flavor. carved into one another like size varying blossoms in freedom better off strung together as truth
and here our tongues are
tied
what has hurt for me
has hurt for another
and so i hope to place my pain
where it can be seen
and maybe that is the purpose
of my own trials
to show the lost
that in each shade of struggle
they have never been alone
i met a man who had no face. he told me about his trips, but i couldn't relate.
e.e.
overcooked meals (after work)
Existing personifications Imprison responsible losses Covering nostalgia's taste Sparking gasoline fueled Chain reactions rooted in distraction Caused by unspoken omens. Well intentioned accidents Lit satisfaction's cigarettes Burnt out domesticated stove tops Sparked by well-intentioned matches Made for roads paving projected dreams Unaware that gas had filled the room
“I was merely 22 but all I expected from life was to present me the fortune to reside in a secluded village and write and write....”
Poet from London
"But what if it never works out?" "And what if it does?" They were two young souls, drenched in love, swimming in the ocean of doubts. They were not the "messing around" type, neither "forever together" one, but one thing that sustained long between their souls was lust. Lust for living together, as long as they could. Running around in war zones, screaming at peaceful rallies, shouting at cremations and dancing in the rain type, untamed, wild and crazy. The rules, the definitions, the stereotypes, all were set to be broken. Paving their way slowly into the future, foregoing the pressure. But she was afraid, of it all, the next moment, the next day, the next month, just the next of everything. Being close to him was never easy, neither was for him. They had vision, but no bricks. They wanted to build a house, but had no ground. Looking forward was difficult, so they let it rest and only promise they had were the "what if(s)" and the only strength they had were the "memories".
BINI //what if(s)
all I want for you is a world without negative space
dear Ollie, my heart broke again today I saw a new picture of you there are just enough minus signs on either side there are just enough minus signs above that I could fill the majority of that negative space with my pulled arm & bent down grin I loved to be in pictures a lifetime or two ago I wish you could've seen how I smiled then I wish I could show you now, but I never see you so I have nothing to smile about I see a picture of you you're smiling with strands of the sun setting over your forehead I see a picture of you you're smiling with ocean skies buried in white sand I see a picture of you you're smiling with a mouth like a book by an anonymous author it's the color of your mom's hair the color of your mom's eyes it's a book with my name buried in the chapters of your teeth & with every sunrise every sand step every turn of the days it kills me it kills me it kills me son, you have my blood you may have my brain I pray you have your mother's heart mine is broken mine is falling apart I don't like taking pictures but my heart sent me the horizontal ones laddering the cracks & hashtagged selfie in all black it seems excessive they say pictures are worth a thousand words but this one is just a few cigarettes where smoke is the only sound the pictures your mother and I took those were the ones I loved they weren't worth a thousand words I need you to know one night an owl brought me a parchment when I broke the seal it unraveled into a tablet there was only one app "all the words you can't say" I tapped it and it showed a live feed of a satellite I couldn't count the galaxies in frame the feed switched I couldn't count the planets in frame the feed switched I couldn't count the libraries in frame the feed switched I couldn't count the buckling bookshelves the bursting bindings the hooded figures hunched over tables writing verse after verse the feed switched black screen, white text this is just one hall in one library, on one planet part of one solar system of one universe galaxies upon galaxies upon galaxies this is what she deserves this is her poetry then it looped back so I finished my pack & the smoke said nothing what about you? that's an easy answer there is no galaxy capable of holding what you mean to me there is no dimension discoverable that can contain the true feelings the true emotions, the true love I feel when I see you in a picture maybe one day I'll get another scroll I'll write one last poem & you your mother & myself can be in a picture these cracks will close I'll unroll the rock from this tomb I'll never stop smiling then because there won't be a reason to love, dad