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Literature Text
I miss you.
I fell down the stairs yesterday
pretending your arms were waiting
but everything aches
write me just one syllable
half a breath, a whispered key
that will unlock my
twisted reveries.
I am:
running fingers through my hair
running lonely through the memory
of your hands
running through me
(my mind is an unstable radio
defiantly playing your songs
ignoring ignorant angry callers
and waiting for the right lyrics to come on.)
so come on,
come and be the wish I make tonight
even though people are stealing past my window, blowing
different wishes into the air---
isn't it enough
that I just can't fall down the stairs anymore?
tomorrow it could be an elevator shaft,
because I miss you.
I fell down the stairs yesterday
pretending your arms were waiting
but everything aches
write me just one syllable
half a breath, a whispered key
that will unlock my
twisted reveries.
I am:
running fingers through my hair
running lonely through the memory
of your hands
running through me
(my mind is an unstable radio
defiantly playing your songs
ignoring ignorant angry callers
and waiting for the right lyrics to come on.)
so come on,
come and be the wish I make tonight
even though people are stealing past my window, blowing
different wishes into the air---
isn't it enough
that I just can't fall down the stairs anymore?
tomorrow it could be an elevator shaft,
because I miss you.
Literature
hibernation love song
wanna bury your
stillbeating
heart in the yard
kneel down
and press my face
to grass grown cool
with shades
of green
you're the wild life
like light
now strange
and scattering
the sound of trains
whispering distant
every evening
bathed in dusk
and I'm just
dust too much
touch
to the back
of your throat
sunken
sunk in skin
and tastes of
settling
sometimes I imagine
you're how I'd want
the snow to be
falling
free like birds
who change back
into bears
Literature
Broken Promises
Can you remember my name?
As I flow through your life?
I am the echo of your past,
a distant time.
A time full of broken promises.
And dreams I will never see come true.
Literature
ecaping heartbreak
when she cries her tears are edged with mascara and knowledge.
she's hiding under the layers and layers of makeup he slathered onto her. for the sake of making her beautiful. she's so used to the same product, but she knows she needs a new makeup remover. one that will work, wipe and clear her mind. because she doesn't need this -- but she wants it.
she's digging through the chaos of her mind, struggling to find a piece of clarity. but all she can find is despair and nights on the couch with ice cream in her lap and a phone to her ear. i thought he was the one for me, but i was wrong. again. it hurts, and sometimes when the clarity strikes
Suggested Collections
not much wordplay in this one. just some of my raw and tired thoughts.
recently I almost fooled myself into thinking I'd stopped missing him. this wonderful poem throws that back in my face.
and. I'm probably being paranoid, but I'll bet there are people who read my poems and go, what the heck is up with that punctuation or lack of capital letters or whatever. I think of punctuation in poetry as a way to make points and meanings and not just to follow structure or make things easier for the reader. Reading a poem is supposed to be hard. The poet, most of the time, is not writing for your convenience. And I use caps when I like..in fact, it'd be nice to write a poem completely in caps sometime. I'll have to try it.
okay end rant. sorry, it wasn't directed toward anyone in particular. I'm just in an obstinate mood.
recently I almost fooled myself into thinking I'd stopped missing him. this wonderful poem throws that back in my face.
and. I'm probably being paranoid, but I'll bet there are people who read my poems and go, what the heck is up with that punctuation or lack of capital letters or whatever. I think of punctuation in poetry as a way to make points and meanings and not just to follow structure or make things easier for the reader. Reading a poem is supposed to be hard. The poet, most of the time, is not writing for your convenience. And I use caps when I like..in fact, it'd be nice to write a poem completely in caps sometime. I'll have to try it.
okay end rant. sorry, it wasn't directed toward anyone in particular. I'm just in an obstinate mood.
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Comments19
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Wonderful <3