inaccessible (melancholyglee) wrote in automaticwriter,

right-handed man can do no wrong when he swings from the left, a low blow - sneaky, hidden, subterranean digs beneath the scales of skin and burrows down and you become convinced of these memetic mimicries and desires wage war in your chest cage, solemnly the hands part, and whisper turns to silence.

once and firstly when and where, then heavy - now- still heavy. instead of untangling this rivered jungle, ecosystem of regrets, decay, and forgetfulness - it is gone now - it is pure now - it is sweet and life is light now - will it sting to see the end credits slide down like tears, my once-upon-a-winter's-night hand that held mine warm - now let us dream beyond the infantile passions - beyond the clawings for a grain, a drop, a copper penny - fall away now, all you whisperers and torturers - fall away now, sun in sky, Optimism toeing up a ladder - she is ripe for a fall - she is due to cry - and so i whisper - i SCREAM i SCREAM - live down here on these Plain plains, these mellow meadows amongst these stoic flowers nodding neither yay or nay - and then now - i go - to inhabit Sunday day - a quiet and calming cave.
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