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Literature Text
i saw you.
i saw you and the world stopped,
and i stopped.
even the courage to turn around
came too late, you were gone
like smoke in a drizzle.
just like that, you were a ghost again,
intangible though you had left
tracks in the dirt.
my sight was cleaned of you but
in the rain came cold-grey clarity,
and even it couldn't wash your prints away.
seeing you was lightning
to every cell in me.
it was earthquakes, and hellfire,
and six feet of snow.
i never knew i could be so awake,
because i've been so
tired for the last six years.
i saw you.
i saw you and the world stopped,
and i stopped.
and you continued on by.
i saw you and the world stopped,
and i stopped.
even the courage to turn around
came too late, you were gone
like smoke in a drizzle.
just like that, you were a ghost again,
intangible though you had left
tracks in the dirt.
my sight was cleaned of you but
in the rain came cold-grey clarity,
and even it couldn't wash your prints away.
seeing you was lightning
to every cell in me.
it was earthquakes, and hellfire,
and six feet of snow.
i never knew i could be so awake,
because i've been so
tired for the last six years.
i saw you.
i saw you and the world stopped,
and i stopped.
and you continued on by.
Literature
Lonely Ladybird
I knew a girl, with chestnut hair, kissed by rays of sunshine.
Who would capture ladybirds in a glass jar, and rip off their wings so they couldn't leave her.
I don't think she knew it at the time,
but she was just a lost, and lonely little girl.
Who didn't understand why everyone around her would fly away, leaving her trapped in her little glass jar.
So she ripped the wings off the struggling ladybirds, because they were the only ones that would listen when she told them she loved them.
Literature
nervosa.
i.
i was six years old the night my mother crept into my room, spread a second quilt on top of me, and began to quietly brush the hair of my barbies. she laid down on the cold wooden floor, one ear down - as if she could hear the small specks of dust moving across the downstairs hardwood.
"we're moving to waterford," she said, staring fondly at my lovingly-kept pocahontas doll. i hadn't seen her swipe it, and she played with the silky ends of the doll's purple-sewn hair in silence.
"i don't want to go," i told her, bleary-eyed and whining, "who wants to live in a place named after water? don't they have anything exciting to name it after?"
Literature
i died but came back
i might spend my week's earnings
on booze and drugs and be happy
by myself. i might drive to your house
and go 40 over the speed limit. i might
pull on your shirt. i might rip out all
of my teeth and use thumb tacks for
molars. i might look like a monster.
i might become self conscious and decide
i should no longer smile. but i might not
look so alive after that. i might not
eat for 3 or 4 days. i might not look
at you for 6 weeks. i might not believe
in permanent markers or anything
that advertises lies like forever. i might
not jump in the coin fountain with you
anymore; i might not think it's right to
steal the wishes
Suggested Collections
six years youve been a ghost to me, and seeing you shook something terrible and altruistic loose.
i know our love was a skinny love, a tug of war love, a latent ember.
and we were clearly never good for eachother, but i guess you can miss certain kinds of pain.
for my sake i hope i never see you again.
but i hope you see me.
clean- taylor swift
the widow knows- wyvern lingo
bitter memories- bahamas
i know our love was a skinny love, a tug of war love, a latent ember.
and we were clearly never good for eachother, but i guess you can miss certain kinds of pain.
for my sake i hope i never see you again.
but i hope you see me.
clean- taylor swift
the widow knows- wyvern lingo
bitter memories- bahamas
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Comments3
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this one tells the truth for so many.