#cheesecake

13 messages · Page 1 of 1 (latest)

sonic sinew
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this is me
this is my pain

yeah this

black and yellow

taxi

igunda park

press ganged

into palms

burning in the attic.

cold touches on the forehead

forever
concerete

tenements
bypasses

intersecting

sunshine.

and scooters

sighing on their sides

780 11 803

the number of joshuas garden

it is to me

anyway

expo is spelled ecspo

in your language

dont you think
that’s funny.

ferris wheels

grafitti

pick up games

black and yellow

bose

buses

and bus stop signs

149
406 902.

it is in your hands to save life

or its in your hands to
save a life

in your language

save is feminine
but life is
just life

im headed north in the morning
and
it would make me happy if you come with me.
and
I have to look after myself.

what else do you
want from me?

i dont want to write poems

anymore

because they have this
great way of

putting it all

together

like

fixing it

but fixing things

feels like forgetting things

and then those things fall apart and

everything we put together

just goes up

and when we go shopping

you always say that anything you don’t know you’re gonna wear when you try it on

you shouldn’t buy

in the same way

i wonder

when i share cheesecake with you

and my sister

and she can’t eat any cause of her keto diet

but she does

and everyone smiles

will we pay it all back.

do we have to give it all back.

in the guest room

where i hide in the dimple

in the two mattresses

well the sheet

stretched between them

and relish in the ecstatic numbness

of crying like a child

black orchid
cherry reduction

smell of brother

smell of strong cough syrup

see oak panelled closets

and the asthmatic rasps of our
first night together

and im still

with you

next badge
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NO PLEASE THIS IS LITERALLY MY KIND OF POETRY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS. im saving this for a later read. its currently 2 am here so gonna sleep

placid pagoda
#

Alright, so your poem reads like a stream of memories and emotions, jumping between places, people, and ideas. You’ve got these sharp, specific details—like taxis, buses, cheesecake with your sister—and then deeper reflections on language, poetry, and connection. There’s this tension throughout, like you’re trying to express something without over-explaining or losing it in the process. The part about fixing things feeling like forgetting really stands out—it’s such a relatable way to talk about memory and grief. It’s raw and fragmented, but it all ties together through this underlying theme of trying to hold onto what matters without breaking yourself in the process.

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sonic sinew
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@next badge dm me about dis

foggy horizon
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this is very different, i feel not as strong as some of the others you’ve shared. there’s a correctness but also a plainness to this listing of details. it’s not something i typically criticize, especially not for poets that write works starved of those very details, but i think you can, have, done better.

what i see here is vulnerability, detail, many of which dull the work, leaving it with less of the cadence of works like stay the night, as a star example.

i don’t know if u want more, i believe this is an older poem, though for only being last year it is staggering to see how much of a change there is with ur newer work, and i am looking at it from an odd retrospective.

sonic sinew
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i like this piece cause it shows how much ive changed

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as a person more than as a poet

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i can’t really remember who i was when i wrote this

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just that life was crazy and i wasn’t happy yk

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but to go from “i dont want to write poems anymore”, to where i am now is something im proud of

foggy horizon
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no that makes a lot of sense