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By Rudra Pagar

short on words

with an open mind

like a mother carrying

open skull anencephaly

born pre its time

flaying involuntary

wanting to do

everything alone

despite not being

meant to

or able to






living in the shadows

Erebus in

the bloodline of Protogenoi

through Indus valley

sumerian and

Inanna to Athena

a perfect circle

ironic and just

history repeating itself

none too much

a Midas touch

warring amazons

is a herculean task

like the Great untying

a gordian knot

what do you

believe in the


your atoms fortunately configured

to experience experience

a cruel joke

touch but nothing really

a trial period life of legacy

your own personal Iliad

worth a box full of tragedy

in the end this ad interim

that we have reached

retrograding from which

is not possible but it is also


going fisticuffs with the world

from the shadows

cold sweats toes curled

the night can be a terror

and the universe has its own ways

no coincidences, trial and error

a different version in each mind

everlasting endless desires

spinning in the yarn forever

Generational gaps like puddles in rain

life carries on like a mother carrying

open skull anencephaly again

hoping this time around with each incision

nothing hurts anymore

because you feel kind of free

putting your skin against the

sharp shard of glass

to see if you still bleed

this is either immortality

or death

but when you see the light

you are finally free

By Rudra Pagar

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