poetry

P. a. i. n/ reality

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scissors of tongues missing
like threads sewing volcanoes.
And my lazy tears twist my body like valleys.
I sip pain,
i see pain.
I hear and live pain(patterns corrosive)
With footsteps entwining my jawlines.
A narrow gauge of breaths and pool of sadness
this moment does that abrupt epilepsy to me,
this dark hollow night,
underneath the white sheet of smiles,
a monster hides.


28 thoughts on “P. a. i. n/ reality

  1. Pain is the reason we exist. Without pain, joy has no worth. Every cloud has a silver lining and for writers, pain is a portal to becoming impeccable at conjuring verses that never miss their mark, leaving the audience enthralled just as yours do! ❤

    Liked by 3 people

      1. I missed you as well dear. I’ve been in a creative rut. Any tips for getting the creative juices flowing again? I know you’re a master of words so I figured I would ask the queen herself 👑

        Liked by 1 person

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