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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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![]() you never were fond of cheap musicians or coffee shop interludes rather you had divine taste like honeyed ambrosia percolating down the back of your throat golden purity tricolating through your veins midas would’ve envied your brilliance //
call it a beloved fable etched as ink on papyrus breath paused -- fingertips tenderly drawn eudaemonia as i feel the softness of your palms pull on my heart like guitar strings just make sure the melody is as sweet as your touch vibrations pulsate from my matured chest rippling the air in warm resonant notes bright like the ripest pick of citrus sung from the chords of apollo’s lyre play me to your unbounding content and lay with me for eternity if eternity truly lasts forever, little did we know eternity is far greater than forever. // in a past life it’s easy to proclaim prophet when olympus resembles more than a tapestry and the altar drips with virgin blood i trace those palms i've known for a millenia the same roads voyaged time and again memories like a teetering record scratched by a needle only to be brought back to desolate plains ceased to hear the lyre long ago i remain pious nonetheless how often does solo begins to sound more like so low apollo i call upon you drown my ears with your jarring instrumentals so i can’t tell the difference between the silence of your touch and the deafness of my heart. Comments are closed.
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Unless otherwise noted, all pictures used are open-source images in the public domain. Archives
September 2023
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