Leonell EchaSeptember 15, 2021
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1min11570
Yesterday, I injured myself and the explanation didn’t make sense. I said, “Well, I was walking…” and that was the end of the story. At this age, my body is a stranger that I keep meeting over and over again. The words “I am” are slowly transforming into “I used to be” because every year, […]

Leonell EchaSeptember 14, 2021
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1min10820
So much to be saved For much more later Lips loosely sinking Break free or sin Let us engage In a contest Where i can win But you will be my loss Let the loud whispers Only be heard through our raging pulse Red eye, i mean I in person Choking on blood clots Because […]

Leonell EchaSeptember 14, 2021
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1min11380
God intended for clouds to be bean seeds so when it rains stalk we would use it as a stairway to find Heaven, if we ever lose its path but— the indomie woman died with her soul that outran the ground while Jesus’ bro ther’s brothel burnt its eyes so, no lust flesh found a […]

Leonell EchaSeptember 14, 2021
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1min11090
my inside is a drought a symbol of euthanasia which means “death is near a bucket holding music” those other things are still other things and illusion is a little not deep says an eternity of black holes. we exist as poison as gin lurking in multiple rooms of the stomach I wrote out pains—the […]

Leonell EchaSeptember 7, 2021
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1min10470
The light is out and after the dark, what’s next? are you answering voices too? is your message a broken mir- ror of decked feelings that hold the truth’s floor? The heart declines sin yet! Those hands are on the scene. another darkness beholds God as water with memories sometimes— as fingers with glue so […]

Leonell EchaSeptember 7, 2021
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1min9370
my skin is a camouflage fabric, soft, disappearing——transparent threshold leading to freedom, immunity from you; love. my heart is a gauze-like country permitting entry without exit. cigarette in mouth, I breathe in dew into my lungs and exhume forgiveness everything that concerns the heart is heavy; burden that you cannot see. in the family photograph […]

Leonell EchaSeptember 6, 2021
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1min10340
If we can remain, we’ll take the road’s complexion becoming full moons, becoming bare words whose tongues is laced with black bloods. black bones bearing bells that ring with each step late pilgrims that still remain and write tales bout’ home. Ruddapoet


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