poems, writing

sludge

you bleed like a fountain when the tides aim for saltwater sky & all you want to do is drown- i wonder how long it'll take for you to stop writing like that. once upon a time, you were blue train tracks rolling down cigarette addiction and soft metaphors. your mother had no way of… Continue reading sludge

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poems, writing

Oh, mother

you told me that one day I’ll be able to understand the cherry blossom that is your heart or that one day I’ll be able to interpret your skies of gold and pink and blue and realize that this is all synonymous to sadness. I used to make origami wings for you, the kind that… Continue reading Oh, mother