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Literature Text
I know that I am not supposed to over analyze. Most of all relationships, but I can't help myself but to have conversations that will never be with you in my head. But really…most of all, I need you next to me laughing, crying, screaming. I need you to feel with me. We are not in a relationship. We are hardly friends. We are two life forms walking by one another on a plane not in the human dimension. Our friendship is a fantasy, for we are perfectly matched. I cannot live in fairy castles or live in a tower, only seeing you on holidays and drop in visits. It shatters my soul to tell you I am cutting off my hair. That I am burning the bridge you cross to get under my skin, to tell me everything about you from your favorite color to the inner workings of your mind. I know how your wheels turn and that I have the grease right here in my hand. I also have the key to your heart. But you have changed the locks, and have given other's the new key. You've forgotten me.
Literature
Birds in flight.
She says I'm a bird, but I know she loves to fly
as we're soaring down the freeway,
ending our adventure and migrating back
to our own worn out homes.
Now we're driving through cities
that died before we were born
and watching men without faces
retrace their footsteps through the cold.
The sun's been gone for months
but the darkness is just beginning
to taste the edges of the sky
and lights are streaming by
above boarded up windows and weather-faded signs.
The roads branch out and the men trudge on
with hands in their pockets and snow in their shoes
and head bent low like crows in the morning.
What is there left
Literature
not charm or up...
when you left
i poured fireflies
down my throat
to burn away
your lips' echoes
but all it did was make them spin
like ballistic quarks
reversing creation
Literature
i call this a heptahedron.
i'm nothing but a washed up cliché
with pages of poetry locked behind my eyes
and forced under my damaged fingernails.
skin is my canvas, an empty slate,
and i'm painting stars in colors that do not have
names; colors that only exist in my mind.
every day is a wait for 11:11 and the opportunity
to discuss my darkest secrets with four-leaved clovers
and moving lights in the night sky.
i'm dancing on the tips of my toes
to avoid stepping on cracks in the pavement
and killing a family of ants.
i spend afternoons making up religions
and teaching them to my stuffed animals
just so i can f
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10000 leagues under the sea is me.
© 2011 - 2024 MissSarah15
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