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Art of J. C. Leyendecker
Forwarded from raccoon fest (ocean)
tell me about home,
how the word tugs and turns,
the heart sinking, as it would,
into waters it soon forgets.
how the soil was damp,
and looking for my hands,
i bled,
and it was prayer.
my roots burrow, currant-red,
my roots, cut and frayed.
the first time i prayed,
i repeated my name till
it rang
like something here and true.
the first time i loved,
it was an execution.
it surged, soared, sorely
missing where my doors
barricaded and held me in.
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Forwarded from It's. (𓇼)
on healing and being kinder to yourself
-
Bug Like an Angel
Mitski
When I'm bent over wishin' it was over
Makin' all variety of vows I'll never keep
I try to remember the wrath of the devil
Was also given him by God
2024/11/16 12:36:01
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