i want to remain stagnant

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—if i could simmer in this static calm for eternity
maybe i could somehow ignore my labored breath
and the vexatious way hysterics loll
in the divot carved into my mouth by a pen
waiting for the moment my lips aren't standing guard
maybe from then on i wouldn't have to breathe at all
become a deflated husk girl with nothing to keep her busy (keep her from freaking)
no more sharp intakes or heavy sighs
painful gasps (you know, it really does hurt to breathe that fast)
maybe paradise all along was forgetting how it once felt to be disjointed
when my fitful daydreams left me winded
and sleeping made me dread the morning
but when i did finally see the day
i basked in the sun as some fleeting joy

as if i didn't greet it everyday
as if it wasn't one of the only constant things i knew (along with the moon, the stars, and maybe capitalism)
it's a ploy to get me up and out of bed

i the wandering dead
i the ghost with a swimming head
i the girl who can't live a 24 hour period without crying

no

calm is my happy
happy is my ecstatic
and my ecstatic is when i'll finally explode
or implode

(i'm not one for making a scene)

but it's okay
i've already resigned myself to being one step behind
really, i'd rather stray and pick my way through the trees
get a little lost
walking hand in hand with eternity

-RB

a/n: i wrote this last summer when the days felt vast and drowsy and crawled like turtles into the night

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a/n: i wrote this last summer when the days felt vast and drowsy and crawled like turtles into the night.

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