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Time is a luxury we no longer possess

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  Time is a luxury we no longer possess Our battered Subi spacecraft, a relic in the night Flickering erratic, its core a dying light On Primary Trade Lane Delta-Nine, a river of light so grand But cycles bled away, draining across the land BK slumped, pale and strained, JB with eyes closed in despair Time a luxury we no longer possessed, consumed by cosmic air. No stopping in uncharted space No "stop and revive" in this perilous, uncharted space. The Rumour Mill's comfort is a memory, lost to time and trace. The exorbitant demand is a punch right to the gut. Our savings drained, our journey's hope, behind a costly shut. Slingshot into an anomaly But Katcha's mind intertwined with Subi, a final desperate plea, "A predictive model for a slingshot to the anomaly!" "Best case, worst case": a gamble to save everything we hold dear, with a 45% chance of structural damage, battling hope and fear. To that faint, almost imperceptible energy signature, ...

Celeste Sacrificed Self


The illusion of being deliberate and in control
In disregard of difficult and painful feelings
This habitual self-harm is difficult to stop
I'm overdosed on power and challenge

I am comforted by the covering of evidence
I am the one that got away
The one that sneaked under your radar
And whilst you do not know me
I am powerful
I shine through my self-inflicted damage

Through the cuts and compulsion
The burning and infliction
The scratching and wrenching
I see myself within those that I kill
They did not see themselves in my ascension

And when the act is completed there is a momentary stillness
A silenced and protected space
A place for me
This, in my sense of achievement
My rebirth is in the possibility of next







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