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Literature Text
L.st
dots fuse to vision
sticking around fruitful emotions
feeling useless, melted away
boiling down to the point
we realize how much was lost
during frictionless kisses, memorable.
L..k.ng
touching faces softly
skin eats alive
biting away these thoughts
teeth, scars, fear
all one in you
never around anymore.
F..nd
stones contained your heart
cold, sad, broken
dancing on wind
we forgot to check love
wasting away, soon
forgotten.
G.n.
dots fuse to vision
sticking around fruitful emotions
feeling useless, melted away
boiling down to the point
we realize how much was lost
during frictionless kisses, memorable.
L..k.ng
touching faces softly
skin eats alive
biting away these thoughts
teeth, scars, fear
all one in you
never around anymore.
F..nd
stones contained your heart
cold, sad, broken
dancing on wind
we forgot to check love
wasting away, soon
forgotten.
G.n.
Literature
Succumbing to Water
"Succumbing to Water"
A million snowflakes descending,
each one
different.
Which watery design
is your death?
Perhaps it is
the foamy monstrous walls
rising
rising
falling.
You're crushed by an ocean.
Or the river pulls and
you drift along.
Deaf ears don't hear
the resounding smash
of water
breaking like glass on deadly rocks.
Blind eyes refuse to see
the edge.
Maybe a drop of rain
touches you, tracing
a line on your face
and
you
Literature
Water
(Your POV)
It’s like liking a wine. A pure, alluring, irritating, mindless and lovely glass of wine. You get in the habit of one- not one like a drug , but still one to take you pretty over the edge. It’s tasty, mindless and your lost like a love lost fool. You get over it eventually, like you would with a past love or crush. What you need, what you want and always did was… water. The only thing that can cure you, ease you and give your mind relief is a glass of water. Because water is pure, healthy. It does not deceive your mind like other juices and illustrious things. It lets your mind breathe, think and live- it lets
Literature
water
i am not afraid of death.
i did not want
the boy beneath the apple trees,
or the cherry petals
in the orchard, touched with invisible fingers
leaving brown indentations, bruised
with your inflection even on the brink of spring
not the one littered under the sunlit twigs
grappling for heaven
But the one lying exactly center field
staring straight at the sky--
waiting for a crash of thunder
for the paper flowers, metaphor for holding
over the sills of everything transient,
and left for erasing-- like a soul brimming
over the bridge of an emotion
strong enough to overcome itself.
brave boy with a thousand faces-- i see
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g.n.
.nc.
m.r.
-----
thinking about past relationships, and how annoying and painful they were. there is a little hope for better, but not much anymore... fuck life
.nc.
m.r.
-----
thinking about past relationships, and how annoying and painful they were. there is a little hope for better, but not much anymore... fuck life
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Comments16
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"biting away these thoughts
teeth, scars, fear
all one in you
never around anymore."
teeth, scars, fear
all one in you
never around anymore."