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  • x_eden 6w

    LIX. (gran)


    her eyes look like unheard stories,
    their inky depths hold her wandering mind,
    as she smiles and the wrinkles rise,
    a lifetime written on every line,
    though words wane in a body frail,
    her eyes have saved these silent tales.


  • x_eden 7w


    The winds shriek through this ugly, steel underbite
    punishing pedestrians, pigeons, and peddlers,
    desperate to touch the earth trapped
    under thickened asphalt tongues.

    - hollex

  • x_eden 7w

    LVII. (sea)

    Seas surge against shifting shores
    and the sandcastles sojourn
    in essential incompleteness
    half washed away by the waves
    as both marvel and mound
    separated by a sunrise.

    - hollex

  • x_eden 7w

    LVI. (prescription)

    Capsules jiggle plasticly
    bathed in opaque
    orange light.

    One less everyday.

    I reach out my hand
    towards my old friend:

    - hollex

  • x_eden 36w

    LV. (kid)

    tattoos snake, black lines curl,
    teeth bared, obscenities hurled,

    never a soft touch has there been,
    for the boy with fractured glass for skin,

    don't look in!
    no one needs to know!
    he's afraid
    that maybe after all this hurt
    he has Schroedinger's cat,
    for a soul.

    - hollex

  • x_eden 55w

    LIV. (sigh)

    the bead of sweat
    the muttered curse
    both falling from
    your body in unison,
    little letters to the universe
    that you didn't realize you had sent.

    - hollex

  • x_eden 57w

    LIII. (conception)

    Gods do not exist before we ask
    they exist because we ask.
    We have long known this:
    When we kill people,
    we kill gods.

    - hollex

  • x_eden 58w

    LII. (fracture)

    You could crack open my ribs,
    and shine your bright light in,
    but you wouldn't know
    this heart is broke.

    So I'll collect my prescription,
    go home and cry,
    I'll swallow the bitter pill,
    go online,
    and pretend I'm still chill.

    - hollex

  • x_eden 59w

    LI. (hail mary)

    I stick out my foot to trip it,
    jut hands out to hold it still,
    but I've only aided time
    by being a frew frames
    of this inexhaustible
    moving picture.

    I cannot stop it,
    I've tried.

    ...I've tried.

    - hollex

  • x_eden 60w

    L. (decay)

    When did poetry
    become hors d'oeuvres,
    digestible in a glance?
    When did the best line
    become the only line,
    the only step in the dance?
    Words with a lifespan of centuries,
    condemned as background fixtures,
    for would-be Homers to stitch
    into filtered pictures.

    What have I become.

    - hollex