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HandsOfFire
(she/her) I'm here to share & write & make friends
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HandsOfFire

path

fingers starved for the night.

softly, go down the path

towards the forest. and forget.

tap out your meaning,

breathe the blood of the trees.

twist the air into your lungs

and back out again.

slow, the sky shifts.

solitary pines, whispering needles.

what life lives beyond--

you have no comprehension.

it's a lonely walk, long.

splitting shadows as you go,

threading the wind through

and around your wrists.

holding on.

tonight it's yours. swap songs

with the birds, choke the life

out of them, let them turn to mist.

you are you are air and song.

nature is death and all death is nature.

hold. it is behind you, always has been.

you're not alone. gently, let go.

it is ancient, it does not know

how to be kind. quietly.

you are you are mist and soil.

sink through roots, older than

your species. older than

insects and dirt and sunlight.

threads of life. threads of universe.

woven roots to hold you.

softly, go down the path

towards the forest. and forget.

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HandsOfFire

in space that thoughts reside

it's not special, she knows, to think there's something special about the moon. she looks up, looks in, swims with the star motes in the moon's beam.

in this tunnel of light there is privacy. secrecy, even. though they all share the same moon, she believes this space is sacred, undisturbed, and individual. her words, filtered but unfiltered, may float. may exist. may take up space that does not intrude, interfere, or permeate. thoughts may appear. thoughts may pass.

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HandsOfFire

Tuning Fork

forget the sound

the memories make

folding in your brain

. . .

let them float

listless

let them roll

past the tide

tuning fork

ringing

in the back of your

skull:

you're here

still

always

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HandsOfFire

hold on, because the time isn’t right

rhythmically,

we fall apart.

- - -

silent spins through this place we call Universe:

she is infinite, she is gentle. until she is not.

- - -

ten fingers,

immeasurable choices.

just enough teeth to gnaw through

the string that tethers us together, sometimes.

- - -

peaks of houses unknown,

peeking through tinted windows.

we slide like ghosts across this earth.

- - -

when time thins to molecular randomness:

whose choice is it, whose push and pull?

swimming within fate's design.

neither Hers, nor mine.

we just must learn to hold on.

- - -

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HandsOfFire

reverberating through

cackling:

the silence is

always laughing.

bouncing

back those

same insecurities.

(you take the ink from your

wrists. unwrap it, unspool the

unsaid, unthought thread.

release it back into silence.)

you don't know

what you can't

hear

.

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HandsOfFire

just the gentle shake of the roaring thunder:

these are

overcast skies &

i've been too

tired to open

the blinds for a while,

let the air in

maybe if we

suffocate together

we can call it romantic.

instead of pathetic

tripping over yourself

to close your eyes,

using his voice like a lifeline,

hedge maze after hedge maze

the phone line still rings

somewhere,

aren't you dying

to pick it up,

aren't you dying,

you wouldn't be here if

we all weren't slowly dying

this is comfort after all:

throw up the words again,

hate yourself, hate him,

hate yourself more.

it's a virus, you're the virus,

this is comfort, this is void.

you decided to be here.

you decide to stay.

over & over again

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HandsOfFire

near the heart it ends

you think its the flowers

you think its the songs

you fall in love too much

without any daydreams

always the calculation

never the mathematician

swimming through holes

built under ground

rock spires and sudden winds

forgotten realms and other things

we swore fealty

we fell on our swords

its over over over

near the heart it swells

focus the energy

play the fool

sing to the treetops

write silence until the palms

of your hands bleed out

youre never never never

running away from the things

that you know

buried deep in your throat

every time you suck in a new breath

toil under the sun moon gods

wring your hands of sin

beg for another day of this

sink your feet in

wish for better

never over over over

near the heart it ends

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HandsOfFire

cycle

corset

sun breeze

quick sex

car drive

another week

paranoia

message

skip work

self checkout

solo

linoleum

one pink line

sigh

sign

cheat fate

didn't want it

hurt

didn't want it

"gambit"

paranoia

charred heart

sob

parallel

didn't want it

impossible

possible

choice?

tears

intersect

didn't happen

deserved

imagination

ghost regret

status

life

work

sex

trembling heart

still

status quo

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HandsOfFire

chicago

- you watch because she's beautiful; bangs and black boots and she's by herself, like you'd rather be

- model ship watches from above a cooler of beer, reeks of incense, floor slippery with dirty mop water

- laughing from behind you, subway, underground, arched ceiling brick beautiful but no one seems to notice when they see it all the time

- empty mall, clean space sterile; silent footsteps like where am i

- towering window walls, stories after stories after stories above you

- he asks for money, we walk, he asks for money, raises one hand to the dark sky and speaks of god's lines on his palms

- fuzzy star jacket, cheetah print converse, black glasses; stranger

- round overlook, a little boy waves from the window and you didn't wave back

- sticky seat in the corner of the bar, not here (or there) enough

- early light on the empty passenger seat, she watches from the backyard of a stranger's house

- mispainted walls inside an unknown place, light from a box, icing on your fingers

- leg bouncing like a scream underneath restaurant table as the conversation spins round and round and round you

- twos and twos and twos, even and still you're left behind (odd)

- roots growing around the edges of the bus stop sign, wind battering your sides, traffic left right; left

- teeth chattering despite the sticky sweat on your back, not cold just uncontrolled

- lake blues greens sky waters beauty: flash by too quick

- white sheets no color in the dark, just silent cold tears

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HandsOfFire

Without

You know we were somewhere

You know the city smells like fire

And the streets here shine golden in the sun

But without

When I'm without

When I'm left with a head half open

To catch the extra rain

It's like icy water

And I'm falling backwards

Into the river

There are tears on my skin

There are tears on my skin

Metal handles, windy hair

Knuckles worn from holding the clouds

Windows and rows of teeth

Glimmering across the water

But without

Dog in a cage

Dying flower

Light behind our eyes

Without without without

Reason

There are tears

I am 21 years or older.