Barefoot Suffocation

Bare feet pace rhythmically across the wet, glistening asphalt as rainwater is corralled into a tiny rippled stream. It pools by the blocked drain where an isolated silver maple tree lost its limb to the chaos of the winds. The waters are rising; to her, it's a drizzle. For years she's strained her dainty neck to keep her head …

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Prickler plant, UNC Botanical Gardens

Escape by Transformation

There is something savory about the friction furnished by the subtle stubble on your face; it's like a gentle, tingly massage cueing me in to the currency of the moment. If not for this, I could get lost in the transitive space between moments... Maybe my world is just a Rubix cube, twisting colorful facets about one …

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crouching by the stream of consciousness

The Indigence of Inhibition

Shaky fingers caress the heartstrings of a stranger, as the mind tingles in anticipation of uncharted consequence. What has changed in these past few weeks, to take a panicking person and make her new, refurbished from the rubbish that'd convened in recess? 'Oft caught naked and rocking by the inward eye, arms wrapped tightly 'round …

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artistic ones and zeros, old computer magic

“Searching for Lost Pieces of Self”

Mid-sentence and crowded by a familiar stranger, something clicks over. The fear is back. The sweat percolates just below the blank space between each collar bone, in the narrow valley between rounded temples. Rising and falling, the rhythm of the sternum picks up as the heart races and breathing becomes silently short and swift. What am …

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“Her eyes full of possibility, washed over, like waves visiting sand locked shells, rolling, briefly, retreating to the vast, mysterious ocean where wonders lurk.”

Her eyes full of possibility, washed over, like waves visiting sand locked shells, rolling briefly, and retreating to the vast, mysterious ocean where wonders lurk. She is her heart; it beats in sync with love, glowing for the world, but shrouded by palms gently swaying against a palette of pink, purple and pale orange. She is …

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Quick freestyle. Add more?

Tapping restless fingers to this beat inside my soul, do you know this symphony of sympathy's great toll? From yonder side of veiling pane where warm breath licks iced glass, from the outer side of this guo (国) that divies us by class. We are all a single thing- a thing beyond the scope, of these …

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Whispering in my chest, making my limbs weary and my spirit half-assed.

Ripping the fibers apart and scraping the guts from the thin veneer that proves our socially recognized existence... We're constantly compromising, killing our impulses, restraining our wanderlust. We're waiting for approval, waiting for that aha moment, waiting, anxiously. We want to know but don't want to deal with it. Meanwhile, we're dipping in and out …

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“It’s slightly painful, the unsaid nature of these ideas.”

When ideas come at 90 miles per hour, it's hard to capture them in a shareable way. They used to come at a reasonable speed, one in which 50 page papers ripe with rabbit holes and the juicy tension between a form of Socratic method and devil's advocate could form without much effort. But now …

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