Poetry

This is the general category of fuckery that goes on and on and doesn’t seem interested in stopping.

  • That was queer.

    That was fucking queer.

    So backstreet boys no one ever stays in love anymore

    Jake

    Echoes

    Jake

    Change the song

    Hedley

    Crazy good at finding a way to make it some day

    Sure.

    That word should go back to meaning what it means.

    Coincidentally Sleeping With Sirens while look at Kellin Quinn’s tweet.

    Also queer.

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  • Letting go is never done conscious

    In saying I let it go you keep it close by giving it a name

    Not until it doesn’t occur

    Is it let go of

    I still dream of him

    I’ve found the best way to never let go

    Is to never grab hold of

    To start with just letting it flow past

    Grab hold

    And all you have left is to let go

    I hope last year falls into the void it created

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  • Why is the sun pink?

    Maybe you should stop looking at it.

    Maybe you should.

    Low.

    My wondering why they’re here doesn’t mean a thing.

    I’ve been quiet and unapproachable

    And so I’m still talking to the things

    I just don’t care what I think they are

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  • I smile for the sun with chapped lips and

    Cherry skies

    Thinking ticking of somewhere else

    Long ago

    Did you hear did you hear that day?

    They say

    You’re our enemy

    Just a matter of time and space

    Saying you ate the fourth alive

    When it was us

    The fifth gave up

    And they get lost in the numbers

    Human choice you can’t be sure

    And of course she’s alive

    But they aren’t dead

    Wouldn’t it be nice if the bus came on time

    Life is strange

    Of course it is

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  • Do you remember when my name was

    Echo

    When it was echo

    It’s not a warmth to be known

    We know how that feels

    Right there like it could be real

    And there’s a new string to be followed

    It’s still beautiful

    Sounds like classics ringing in thunder in a dark room

    Check “yes” Juliet

    Life is poetic irony

    Midnight by now you’ve been and gone and gone and gone

    Maybe I’ll whistle to myself

    If I don’t call them they won’t know it’s my birthday

    You say they’re meaningless?

    Well that is what it’ll be

    You feel so tired, you know that?

    I’m so tired.

    This is why I stopped listening to music

    It just doesn’t fit doesn’t fit

    At least the invisible don’t have to be erased

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  • Spinel and Ruby

    They are so small

    Ruby so scared

    Spinel so interested in it all

    Tiny little babies,

    Racing around their life.

    I did it

    He whispered to me, staring down in pride.

    They’re beautiful, I tell him.

    I get to see their whole lives!

    I know.

    Yes,

    Spinel and Ruby,

    They don’t yet know,

    Just how they will have saved me.

    Please stay.

    Don’t go.

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