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The Full MoonThe full moon reflects feelings.
I wane on my friendship,
But wax on the love for them.
Why is this confusion of
Betrayal cutting so deep?
Crimson flow, out of my blue veins,
Watch me smile with a blurred face.
My only reference shading in the grey,
Encompassing the old,
Hiding stippled emotions,
Bottled up in masks.
Layer upon layer,
No one reflects their deepest skin,
Inlayed like bricks of a stone wall.
Between the circle,
Apart now, together then.
She, he, you, me, them,
Where did we all go?
A circle strong, bound buy the elastic
Bands that held so tight.
When did one break?
Was it I who made it snap?
Now it seems only an arc
Is left to stand alone,
I stand alone.
A Bloody, Stupid Miracle The day we’d cured the human condition was the day I put a bullet through my head and didn’t die. It was also the day I realized how scared I actually was of death, and after hours of muscle ache from holding that gauze against my open skull, after the wound closed and everything went back to normal, I had myself a good old-fashioned brainstorm. How ironic.
But when summer came, everything had fallen to shit. The air scorched my skin and parched my tongue every time I took a breath. The sun glared down on a rapidly-collapsing world, full of the undying bastard children of cruelty and misfortune. What was one to do when their cells regenerated faster than they decomposed?
My feet hit the pavement, now littered with jagged bits of glass to snap at my toes, thoroughly baked by the blazing ball of bitter disdain high overhead. Today was worse than yesterday. Though I’d often wondered the purpose of it anymore, I
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