Mist

Sunday morning with too much of Saturday night in it. Luckily, the coffee’s black, like both of them. .

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Cheers to that ☕️

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A Pretense At Dawn

At the end of the day, there’s a long way to go before the morning comes.

Still, a pretense at dawn will do. 🖤

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Love and squishes,

Cookie ~

Strychnine

Overestimating yourself is a disease, that leaves you most vulnerable- from the inside. When you can’t judge your weaknesses and your strengths, you’re never quite safe.

I thought I was safe. Then I met you today, and it was clear as day.

There’s nowhere left that I’ll ever be safe again.

Archimedes’ Other Principle

It still hasn’t stopped being disconcerting.

Admittedly, I’ve been more touchy than usual in these days last few days. The Domino Effect of Shitstacks states that new nuisances will compound older ones and all of them put together, reawaken the oldest. Or, release the broken Kraken, I suppose. And mine’s barely on a leash.

I wonder with increasing frequency, when this un-banishable feeling of inadequacy will finally leave. Every day I wake up feeling empty is a day I spend wondering, in every unguarded moment, _why_ I wasn’t good enough. Why you were stupid enough. Why I was stupid enough. Why nothing was enough. And I’ve had enough of it.

I want to be free, of this persistent nothingness. I’m not looking to fill it with someone else, and as gut-wrenching as the thought is, not even with you again. You punched your way out of my chest. You’re not finding home in there again, no matter how contrite you are.

So there’s that, I suppose.

At least the birds are so loud that they drown out my thoughts. Good morning it is.

– C

Cilice

I wear my unhappinesses on my sleeve

Carefully rolled up and tucked away

Never farther than two fingers’ reach

I work, with my laughter elbow deep,

Cuffs stained with streaks of artifice

While I prevaricate- wherefrom do I secede?

As the painfully cultivated illusions recede-

I pluck my hems unconsciously

Too nervous to confess or deceive

So I hide it all, in plain sight

I wear my unhappiness on my sleeve

I save my lonelinesses for the night

Where I can, uninterrupted, keep sole company

Judge, witness, lawyer, mob, and jury

Pass my own sentences, give verdict

Justify and deny with equal practice

I weigh the twilight of dawn against dusk

Somewhere, in betwixt, sleep visits us

And all the hopes gentle pass into the void

-the cold warmth of pillow on pillow, on my side

Subterfuge borne of necessity

-but an expedient ploy

So I save my lonelinesses, for the night

And mornings come fraught

with anticipation, overwrought

with promises, potential, all these glorious things

hovering just out of reach,

but not out of thought

All these fallacies and fantasies

That I am capable of – but I’m not

I need my sorrow like monks their cilices

A reminder to self, even when not displayed

Even when rolled up and tucked neat away

I work with my laughter, loud and elbow deep

But never farther than two fingers’ reach

I wear my unhappinesses on my sleeve

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Cilice

©️Yusra

06.09.2018

⚫️♥️⚫️

Messages Off a Cigarette LX

Well, the series returns.

Today was a strange day. Not the kind that I can do justice to, in turn of phrase, but perhaps that’s a good thing. Some things need to be taken only as seriously as is necessary in the moment, and beyond that instant, only ever again for the sake of a lesson. Including the thoroughly organic and completely unavoidable presence of death.

So… linger just enough to remember, and not long enough to dwell?

Let’s try that.

One quick flare at a time, if need be.

Cheerio chin chin,

C~