Laburnum







  Laburnum quill stories
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normancrane
normancrane Instagram: thenormancrane
Autoplay OFF   •   6 months ago
We write painfully from within.

Laburnum

My writing desk

My chair

A slap to the face

Fingers running through my hair

I will words

Which refuse to appear

I will

That which I will always fear

That only the quill knows how to be sincere

Unbuttoned shirt

A battered sternum

Under the hurt

The heart

Blooms the poisonous laburnum

Beating like a drum

I insert the quill

Holding in

Until it's had its fill of yellow ink

I do not think but write

Numbed but the words appear alright

I repeat until the flowers pass their bloom

And blackened fill the room

My throat is dry

My writing desk is wet

By my laburnum blood and sweat

Time to rest

To sew up my open chest

To sleep and in the morning feel again

Anatomical garden

Quill pen

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