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there is magic in her bones.

there is magic in her bones.

you’ll find her in the treehouse made of ash and alder, an ancient soul locked inside a heart that beats through fear and strength do you not see the charm in her ruins? the petals that bloom from dropping limbs when the darkness rose, she flooded it with scattered...
the change of seasons within us.

the change of seasons within us.

our last days of winter were spent inhaling poetry, high on smoke and spice and a whole lot of s o u l, our lungs like hidden chambers filled with a breath of ashes, our hearts like hollow canyons filled with the echoes of prose we took a drag of every line and purged...
i want to admire your truth.

i want to admire your truth.

i’ve always been fascinated by the kind of art others don’t appreciate, the poetry etched in haste on the bathroom stall, the graffiti scrawled on passing train cars i suppose i love the abstract, the undefined, the stuff we share thinking no one will notice (but...
this winter weather speaks to me.

this winter weather speaks to me.

the windows are open, cold air winding through, taking with it the last days of autumn and ushering in the arrival of the first snow blackbird is playing on the radio, the foo fighters version i was never a fan of the way the beatles sounded, but the lyrics are good...