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So here this begins

Why I don't currently know

Perhaps I'll find out

 I spent my weekend

Making spreadsheets all day long

So I could live well 




I cut down the trees

I got splinters in my hands

This house is a home

Violin player. 

Sentimental brick-layer. 

Pin drop soothsayer

Hey! How you doing?

Not too bad! Not doing much

Ugh that's such a mood

Take my faith from me

Until I understand it

I, the wingless bird

"It's really something"

Said the old man, now humbled,

"It's really something"

Balaclava on. 

Hits the bank to get his payment. 

Kissed his kids goodbye.

I see trees of gold

Red roses are yet to bloom

The wonder awaits

I hung up my coat,

Took off these cumbersome shoes

And then ran outside

Kindle, rekindle

Tired flames make their way all day

Toward the window

Postal services

Deliver me from anguish

Send me straight back home

Jaw clenched, tongue lifted. 

Determined not to show it.

I break down crying.

Draw back the curtains

Sudden sunlight drenches us

We lie in silence

Bishop to A4.

Queen takes bishop, pawn takes queen.

Supreme victory.

A happy New Year

Melancholy memories

I pull at fate's strings

The money you have spent

Is just an implication

Of money you've not

The ghosts of people

I have moderately hurt

Grow stronger each day

Sometimes you're inspired

Sometimes others inspire you

But please stay inspired

Turn this upside down

Depending on where you are

You now look silly

I know you heard it. 

That word that triggers just us. 

The body speaks loud. 

Nostalgia cuts deep

I travel through time and space

Unable to change

It's almost magic 

The kind of people we are

When we are well loved

Build an atrium

Write a speech and stick to it

Rewrite history

I don't want people 

To be people around me

I want a fiction