poetry.
collection of my amateurish attempts at writing poetry
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THE SUN DOES NOT MEAN FOR YOU TO BE WARM
a poem about the sun, and how something can be true even when it isn't meant for you.
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STRANGE EQUILIBRIUM
imperfection can be its own kind of precision, maybe.
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LOGORRHOEA
how do you describe overflow without overflowing?
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What I made of You (in the hours I could not sleep)
the dark makes saints without permission.