I Have Swallowed Molten Lead. Swallowed It Myself. It Tasted Like Empty Seats In Crammed Up Rooms And

I have swallowed molten lead. Swallowed it myself. It tasted like empty seats in crammed up rooms and a pile of gathering dread.

It tastes like whispers I can't hear, my mouthful of molten lead. Like train tickets, bus fares I've never seen, and farewells that remain unsaid.

It tastes like rhythms I can't balance, my stomach of molten lead. Like the half rotted sweetness of memories in retrospect, and a pile that is already dead.

More Posts from Summer-grass and Others

2 years ago

Yellowed fragments of summer grass, The days are long but go too fast. Midnight moons light my dreams, Of mundanity found in the crowns of queens.


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1 year ago
Hi All,
Hi All,
Hi All,

Hi all,

Honestly, I think this is the most regularly I've posted. The end of the exams are nearly in sight!

The above photos are of my frantic preparation for my Ancient History exam after realising I know less than half the syllabus—although I blame that on bad, very bad teaching this year. Also inconsistent teaching—my ancient history class has been fast becoming the real life equivalent of the Defence against the Dark Arts position at my school, with our teachers leaving after only a term or two.

What I've done in the past two days:

about 6 or 7 short answer questions

research for my ancient history exam

reading way too many academic articles for my brain to handle

If any other ATAR students are reading this, hopefully we can all end this exam season with a bang! Nearly there!

Thanks for reading, and I hope you're productive this week!


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3 years ago

There is an owl at my school.


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3 years ago

Honestly if any of my school teachers raises the bar anymore I'm gonna dislocate my arms.


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2 years ago

Ideal house

15.02.2023 💌 To Me, Valentine’s Day Will Always Mean A Trip To A Beautiful Bookstore 💌
15.02.2023 💌 To Me, Valentine’s Day Will Always Mean A Trip To A Beautiful Bookstore 💌
15.02.2023 💌 To Me, Valentine’s Day Will Always Mean A Trip To A Beautiful Bookstore 💌
15.02.2023 💌 To Me, Valentine’s Day Will Always Mean A Trip To A Beautiful Bookstore 💌
15.02.2023 💌 To Me, Valentine’s Day Will Always Mean A Trip To A Beautiful Bookstore 💌
15.02.2023 💌 To Me, Valentine’s Day Will Always Mean A Trip To A Beautiful Bookstore 💌

15.02.2023 💌 To me, Valentine’s Day will always mean a trip to a beautiful bookstore 💌

2 years ago

How often do you taste the wind on your face? Let it whip the leaves around you? Standing in a hurricane of nature, the creation not your own.

I'd rather that than a hurricane of worry. Each day I add another leaf to my pile. Taste it on my face as it wraps itself around me.

But for now, I shall not turn away when nature spins beside me.


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1 year ago
Hi All,
Hi All,

Hi all,

it's term 3, and the assessments are piling up higher than Mount Everest. Exams start in slightly more than a month, I have some heavy-weighted tasks coming up, and as the days start to dry up so too does my optimism. Hence this post.

The above pictures are of some notes I've been taking on disease, our new biology topic.

What I got done this weekend:

A practice literature essay

Literature research on Hamlet

Biology notes

Ancient history exam notes

I'm hoping to complete some maths revision later tonight, as well as a timed practice essay for literature. Also, if anybody who reads this blog has any tips or tricks for writing literature essays under timed conditions and would be able to comment that (and something more constructive than "time management") I"d really appreciate it.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you're productive this week!


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3 years ago

Everytime I get ahead of myself I remember that the first time I made microwave mac-and-cheese I burnt it so badly I'm pretty sure I sent it halfway to hell.


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2 years ago

Fuck this shit I wanna go bike riding with my friends around the streets while the sun is setting and the ocean is sparkling and the trees are green.


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2 years ago

I don't know how much energy I have left for writing. I'm tired, and maybe this is giving up. Or maybe it's not.

Maybe it's more like sleep (even though I've been sleeping already for far too many years). Like rest, like rain pouring down on hot summer soil.

I'd like to think that way.

But maybe it is giving up.

And that's okay too.


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  • voidic3ntity
    voidic3ntity liked this · 2 years ago
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    summer-grass reblogged this · 2 years ago
summer-grass - summer grass
summer grass

I don't even like summer

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