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#wnq writers
luna-rav · 10 hours ago
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It's going to be so damn hard one day. You will be waking up with a completely different scenery. The person you once constantly woke up to will be gone. They won't be beside you anymore. It will feel as if you have experienced your first death, it feels like losing a part of you. It may not just be the person themselves but the world you had with them. Sometimes, I think, people who are dear to us will come to a point where they are dispensable. The only things that will remain is their memories with you. After all, people will change to the point of no recognition but their memories will stay with you.
One day, you will have to let go of this person. I know, we think we'll be with them forever, but there will always be an end. It's just a matter of how soon it is. It's either death of a feeling, death of a moment, or just death in its literal sense.
— Luna Raven, "I choose to celebrate the present moment with you. As we make memories, I choose to live today without much thought for tomorrow. However, I think I also need to be aware that the end is looming over our love and so that makes me want to enjoy every single moment with you more than ever."
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richglinnen · 11 hours ago
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This Woman
This Woman is crossing the street Hard. Her hair flops With each step, As if a boneless jockey Is draped over her head, Urging her towards the corner, Or, as he would call it, The turn, And down the home stretch Of the subsequent sidewalk she goes, This Woman, clicking, clacketing, Passing the cleaners, the sushi spot, And finally, the tile store, Where a gust of wind Raises the arms Of the winning equestrian, But doesn’t slow down This Woman At all.
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apatheticaggo · 23 hours ago
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I don’t know if I wanna go on
I am sure that I should move on
The ground is wet but hard
I guess I’ll grab the shovel
Dig dig dig
Dug. Dug
Dig dig dig
Dug dug
It’s cold out here tonight
Seems like this is the right
Time
My heart beats in a steady pace
I’m ready to put my self in this place
My grave
Dig dig dig
Dug dug
Dig dig dig
Dug dug
It’s all done and finished now
The only thing left is to somehow
Kill myself and cover it all up
I don’t need help I’ll get this done
The machine cranks
I pull the lever than race
Into my finals resting place
It’s thick and cold and smells
The cement will dry tonight
And you’ll be forced to see
Your new living hell
With your own two eyes
From the windows to your right
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autumnsunshine10 · a day ago
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You don't have to put yourself in someone else's shoes but should you refuse, don't lose it if they choose to no longer put themself in yours. Then when the shoe is on the other foot, you can complain and even minimize another's pain but walk that steaming pile of self-pity hypocrisy far away.
And if the shoe fits, no one can force you to wear it, but don't then pretend that your pinky toe wouldn't even go in.
Shoo
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dolores-hazy · 2 days ago
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Tumbleweed turning
Heels over head over
Heels chapped wind rash
Face flushed from rolling
Along leaning into
Risk of crushing desolation
If it's any consolation at least
It can be confirmed
The blood still rushes
Carried away with gusto
Burn of yearning, no small wonder
That wonder hasn't wandered off
Winding up for the wind down
Every gear still in
Stirring synchronicity
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iambrillyant · 2 days ago
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“apologizing for how you expressed yourself in moments that you recognize you were operating at a low vibration, is awareness. apologizing for how you expressed yourself in moments where you had the right to feel the way you feel in fear of negative reaction, is a trauma response.”
— iambrillyant
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richglinnen · 2 days ago
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Backyard Party
The clown uncluttered the trimmed grass Of unused balloons Like a massive exotic bird Plucking equally exotic worms After a spell of rain, Except it hadn’t rained For some time.
He waddled back into the house As the circus music switched To a popular played-out song Recognized by most adults, Appropriate to talk over.
The heat was discussed widely, Like a sprawling, uniformed lawn Strewn with the occasional mention Of a child or a dog.
Meanwhile, the deflated kids moped Because the clown was gone. They dragged their inflated swords behind them, Grieving from grass to concrete. The sudden pop was the final straw And sent them to the familiar territory Of the slip of their parents’ outstretched arms.
Of course, Anthony, the children’s entertainer, Has only left temporarily To cool off inside the air-conditioned house Before returning to the birthday party Reincarnated as a big shiny robot.
Us adults know this. The host told us. But the kids are distressed, nevertheless, Because the clown is gone forever, So now they will be sad forever,
Limp in our arms, stripped of life, Tiny whiney furnaces Making us even hotter During a heatwave Bound to last forever.
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richglinnen · 3 days ago
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Wipe
My wife would have me believe That few wipe themselves Standing up, like I do, That most people wipe in a sitting position, Hovering over the toilet, After they go number two.
We each think the population does What we do, which is how it usually goes, But my wife’s way sounds too grueling To be true, legs trembling like it’s a workout, A prolonged squat, panting, telling yourself, “Just one more,” and then when The paper is still soiled, One more after that.
But when you’re standing, You can lock your knees like a horse, And take all the time you need, Like a horse, and can notice things, Like the female mosquito Ensconced near the ceiling,
Or how your shadow, With your arm bent behind, Resembles a big tea cup, Your action arm, the handle, Scooping out grinds with each pass Until there are no more tea leaves, No more fortunes to read, No more future, only the present, Standing still, like a horse.
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luna-rav · 3 days ago
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Evil truly is a result of greater evil. I'm sure some of us have thought of it at some point.
What is the root of evil?
Why does it have no end?
Even when one vile dies out, another comes.
How is it infinite and how is happiness finite? I will never accept the fact that even the happiest memories are almost always tainted with some kind of evilness.
Our story is filled with noise. it's never calm. Maybe as we learn to take control of our peace, we think that our life is in no chaos, but we are a part of the world. Our very own life's narrative is entangled with the rest of the world.
and the world is in chaos.
The world is too noisy for us to tune it out.
There's only few things I can do about it. I can worry about what I can reach and be that positive energy that the world lacks or I can be angry. I can be angry with the world, I can scream and shout and feel for the world's agony.
— Today, I choose to be so damn mad with the world, because the peace I desire to reach is not gonna come to me unless my heart explodes with all the madness it bears.
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loverforthelasttime · 4 days ago
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When I held your head in my palms, It felt like a handful of universe.
© Loverforthelasttime
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autumnsunshine10 · 4 days ago
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I tell myself it doesn't matter
Why should it? How could it?
Repeating the mantra marching
To and fro like that'll make it
Actually make sense instead
Of a struck-matchbook fairy story
Seems the wrong things matter
And setting it right comes
At too high an asking price
What happens when the words
Lose meaning? The world is spinning
Too fast to hold on and my head
My heart swim idiosychronized
Taking on water the harder I paddle
The faster the bottom
Drops out
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richglinnen · 5 days ago
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Limits
The energy I possess Dictates the size of my world, How big my yard is, How high its fences.
I toss and turn in bed Until comfortable, Within the confines Of a mere foot, I tumble,
But cats test windowsills, Chairs, dropped sweatpants. They search rooms and floors For where sleep will find them.
Their world is the house, Fully explored And then some, If you’re not quick enough When closing the door,
Yet my world is the world. Its edges exist, from what I hear. Doubtful it’s as nice there As it is right here:
The cat in the kitchen Trying to bat a galaxy From a plastic bag. And on a sunny day, From what I can see.
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poetdreamerfool · 5 days ago
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belgian waffles 🧇🥇
science can be art but art can't be science the towering man thought as he knelt in defiance-- they protest our protest because it lacks civility; I guess we're dying too loud. I guess silence is the amazing grace they taught us to sing about; bail= the price of rings my mother sold; on the inside, I treated my purpose like the ones that Sonic holds: let the world hit them free! there ain't no difference between fool's gold and a fool with gold; clutched like a slave sold; cut from a millennial mold in and out the boomer's fold Existential Olympics: gold; I found my calling but that shit's on hold. my present is less like a present and more like elevator music. a brain ain't a brain unless you use it. so use it. the attacks come fast the first few are alarming but after that you can snooze it; cops shoot-- news break fast! he pancake flat next up the media serves us waffles as facts; culture vultures, leggo my eggo; leggo my ego, on guard wherever we go. we go. we go.
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dolores-hazy · 7 days ago
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Bait and switch vibes
Hook line sinker fall for it
Right through the holes
In the net caught
Off guard again and again
What more is there to expect?
Don't look for the best
Left looking a fool
There are worse things but why
Does it feel like getting slammed
Square in the chest full
Power no-holds-barred?
Makes you want to slash
The cords cutting into
Atrophying muscle
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yourbbunny · 7 days ago
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Deciding to let you go and walk away from us was a slow burn process. No, I didn't wake up one morning and felt the need to leave. It was sleepless days and night that never seem to end. Because walking away always felt like a betrayal to me. To you. To us. And I never wanted it to be that way. No one goes into a relationship thinking that one day they will have to burn bridges. I loved you the best I could but parts of me don't anymore.
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