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{
  "uri": "at://did:plc:eixxyaijzj2yrqwzrzijt2vy/app.bsky.feed.post/3lopnp5yozk2j",
  "cid": "bafyreihkzbwspkrw556wxmrnfogdtli3npkc2c4fbocfogpgavmtaqcbhe",
  "value": {
    "text": "a poem called \"\"maybe i'll drown\"\"",
    "$type": "app.bsky.feed.post",
    "embed": {
      "$type": "app.bsky.embed.images",
      "images": [
        {
          "alt": "\"maybe i'll drown\"\n\nTaught younger by some boaster\nthere's a girlishness to grief, oceans\ndark and tranquil, fury hidden in\ncold spray & rumbling all distant\nNonsense. Grief I think's a beacon\non a lighthouse, torn apart these days\nby tricks of glass - magnify a signal,\nmake it into noise. There's a fire\nup there - if you train your eye\nto seek it, nothing lies ahead for you\nbut salt-drunk death, genteel suicide\nyet slowed & reverbed for the cowards.\nBright enough to blind and gone,\ntrailing off and then bound back again.\nMy heart is tired of metaphor, and yet\neven the darkness has a schedule to keep.\nUp and over, over and through, a stir\nin the sky and no more of you.",
          "image": {
            "$type": "blob",
            "ref": {
              "$link": "bafkreihaiakbdifzfajm6loritcjtqtdtq2s3mept2bopwigeoqvnptrtu"
            },
            "mimeType": "image/jpeg",
            "size": 339399
          },
          "aspectRatio": {
            "width": 457,
            "height": 553
          }
        }
      ]
    },
    "langs": [
      "en"
    ],
    "createdAt": "2025-05-09T05:05:29.302Z"
  }
}