• oracular_ 6w

    Hit my head a little harder.
    Till the glued thoughts become softer.
    And melt away.

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    I don't paste any stars on the
    bedroom walls now.
    They set my room on fire a while ago.
    The smoke still puffed into frozen
    clouds,
    hanging down from the knitted knots.

    I grill enough holes to fit blue hopes
    in the doors that still hold the blurred 
    nameplate of a home.
    There's no ink left to invite moths.
    But,the roots can stay a bit longer.

    I allow the murks filled with dirts of
    light to flow in,
    blow the drapes and kill termites.
    Windows being stitched with sunshine.
    Doors always left open for the rain.

    I let the universe to crawl in every
    shape it wants,
    on these walls from outside.
    To expand a little more from inside.

    An artifact under none to name.
    Wrapped in infinite deaths and
    multiple lives.
    I fall a little more against gravity.

    Deeper and darker.
    Far away from known wonderlands,
    To stay nearer their unknown wastelands.

    ©oracular_