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May 30
Or a portion of silencing,
Calming brain sport amid
Its blood primed gently,
Yet so engrossingly violent,
Final, like, slumped there—

It’s order
It is impatient
In this mind, baying
In-timing, in cycle so
It can shout down
Its very survival

Pour, the metal will
Out, and score or fill
The air when notes,
And rhythm flush towards
Those that must find me there

It’s order
It is me on a wall
In that I proclaim
In my death I know all
It thought, and shouted again
It’s screaming, screaming survival

—And when order in-churned
I was spilling such pain
I will never return, yet
Much life remained
Thinking, or parallel to that:

Is order much caring I bleed like I am?
from march 15, 2019
poem from the past a day #11
order was a watershed poem for me.
it combines some of my little word experimentations and some actual storytelling that isn't totally impossible to understand.
like most of the things i write, i'm not super satisfied with the ending- as in, it needed more- but i also love to keep things brief. if i keep writing, there's always the danger of messing up the entire thing up.
findingkitsunes
Written by
findingkitsunes  26/Michigan
(26/Michigan)   
31
   rick
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