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My head was swirling
(and thes thing what do you call it),
the soul was escaping my feet in tiny blue rivulets,
electric blue rivulets,
it wasn't ..
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blah,blah,blah
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Larkspurs long gone to bed,
all my flowers,my dear coldones,
the perennials withered,scorched,scrunched
by the blazing yellow eye,
the mighty yell..
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s**t....
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The silence depressed me.It wasn't the silence of silence.It was my own silence.(Sylvia Plath)
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Is this you,dead great grandma
floating through the room
on an unseeable balloon,
witheyes all ballooned up.
Is it Al Jolson with his face daubed
..
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Poinsettia,
thechristianflower bleeds
outside
and i bleed in here,
in this house,in this room
that clings,clings to me
in this purple bed in my ..
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''We are falling apart
because our centres can't hold''.
This became my favourite sentence
back in high school
where the girls thought
they looke..
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Nothing happens,
nothing is happening,
nothing happens in my case,it never does,
what is God.
Who are you.
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