• charlie linnell

pending poetry #2

Last day of fall season.

She’ll never get in line.

The glass ceiling breaks.

All shards in our hair.

First time I fall this hard.

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Bending, twisting, turning. Hands are burning. Sweat is running. No matter how much I try, I can’t get in. A sealed heart.

good morning, so i commute a lot these days and sometimes i get bored. i've read more about poetry, it's still partly a mystery and partly clear to me. you can say i'm a beginner. so in order to keep