minutiae_in_metanoia

What's dark to a blind man? What's life to a tired soul?

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  • minutiae_in_metanoia 1w

    I think
    I will miss my life
    If not for the breakfast on my table,
    it's smell a chant
    Of living another day.
    ©minutiae_in_metanoia

  • minutiae_in_metanoia 2w

    You are the other half of my
    Demon.
    ©minutiae_in_metanoia

  • minutiae_in_metanoia 2w

    #questions #wod
    Thanks for the EC����

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    Ask those villains
    Who roll lies on their tongues
    Like a scented cigarette,
    puff out elegance and fake class,
    and then posh out their way
    Of a conversation:
    What do you taste—victory or vengeance?
    ©minutiae_in_metanoia

  • minutiae_in_metanoia 3w

    #wod #start

    Thankyou for the EC❤️❤️❤️������

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    I am watching the painted sky,
    wondering if your eyes see it, too.
    The clash of red against pacific blue
    Remind me of our tragic time together.

    Somewhere in the colours of sky,
    stars hide behind clouds,
    and we could huddle close under
    Their symphony. The simple painting.
    ©minutiae_in_metanoia

  • minutiae_in_metanoia 3w

    There is no body for my bones,
    if love were cruel, I'd be the
    Test subject;

    I can't feel you when you are here,
    I'm afraid what happens when
    We're alone.
    ©minutiae_in_metanoia

  • minutiae_in_metanoia 3w

    These ears twitch,
    I'm a dog, darling, to
    The sultry sound of your footsteps.

    The night diffuses with
    Blood, darling, when
    My heart overflows with love for you.
    ©minutiae_in_metanoia

  • minutiae_in_metanoia 3w

    When weaker a sex be born
    In the court of patriarchy,
    in the arms that nurture can choke:
    a prison inbred in satin red stains,
    a secret to carry in folds of constraints.

    They coddle you and croon,
    a behaviour fit to the flowers:
    they preen, they pluck,
    they play you like cheap cards.
    You bite your lips till you bleed,
    you mourn your own design of breed.
    ©minutiae_in_metanoia

  • minutiae_in_metanoia 4w

    Little tree ducking under
    Fallen sky has been erased,
    small animals have also been erased,
    big machines have been erased;
    we step out into suits to see the erased.
    ©minutiae_in_metanoia

  • minutiae_in_metanoia 4w

    Seethe, pine, break things
    With hands in gloves,
    heart in mouth.

    Look, see nothing, breathe,
    drag myself through this day,
    silently.
    ©minutiae_in_metanoia

  • minutiae_in_metanoia 6w

    What is fear?
    It's primal, ancient whiff of a predator
    Lurking in the shadows of open homes;
    a false freedom, a phantom power
    But more corporeal than tomb or bone.
    ©minutiae_in_metanoia