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blackholes die here

Celatixia
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chs / week
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Synopsis
a writer ought never to be frightened in using the same subject all over again because she should be sure in her soul that all of her metaphors are for the ones who can't even utter a word for her. for the dreamers. for the mad poets. for the rebels. for the one, who seeks freedom. you're going to die someday in someone's arms or maybe, die alone. all the things you wrote will only be a fabricated nostalgia for you. people would care for months... tell how you've been a good person to them. you're going to be lost someday. that will be the day where everyone no longer thinks of your demise, you no longer resemble peace but a mere memory they could barely remember, your words will be forgotten. and, you'll die with them, you're going to get buried with them. until you're nothing but a graveyard of nameless poetry and novels. it's pretty sad i know. but you made something out of history. you're going to die someday, but your demise will be their refuge. trust me. we will be free. enjoy reading, this is only a tiny collection of my proses/poems. - a.
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Chapter 1 - 001. summer beauty.

the bugs will kiss you adieu. you will grow on parched soils in a godforsaken garden. carry on, flower child. you're a bambino sprouting on your mother maria's blooming greenery. you grew a garden on your ribcage and the aroma will linger on the tip of your tongue and so you would puke flowers. beauty overflows in you. you're comprised of pollens and grace but you wither, you wither and you still dance on the buds of your silken skin. you keep eternity in your pockets, i mean, the daisies your father pressed between coffee-stained books. the salvation that caterpillars promised you will be etched on your skin til you die. fairies will write elegies for you. offspring of wanderlust, home is everywhere with your efflorescing poetry. but you will soon become wilted while your poems will be buried beneath the flowers on your graveyard.

just you and your poetry, you will be buried together.

a.