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[Diarist: Rowan Bland (she/her)]


in this electrifying hole of daffodils and tension
is where i find myself
there is no routine in my absentia
long lost feelings possess me such as demons do
wake up and smell the roses
pour coffee down the drain and
anoint yourself in insults
i have no concept
no manifesto nor
boldness down here
i now spend my days
guppy in a pond
waiting for the big bird
overhead, soaring
to pierce my body with its beak
and shake me senseless. 


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