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Literature Text
even with
the music at a
deafening volume,
she can still hear
his car pull
out of the drive way.
stalling at the bottom
and fade into static.
even if it was
a year ago
today.
he didn't leave
anything
behind.
she can't wear his
old shirt to bed.
shes got nothing
to prove he was around
or if he was just a
dangerous dream.
she doesn't know which
would hurt less.
the music at a
deafening volume,
she can still hear
his car pull
out of the drive way.
stalling at the bottom
and fade into static.
even if it was
a year ago
today.
he didn't leave
anything
behind.
she can't wear his
old shirt to bed.
shes got nothing
to prove he was around
or if he was just a
dangerous dream.
she doesn't know which
would hurt less.
Literature
love in the stars
she wears her heart on her sleeve
like the night wears the stars
she wakes up everyday
expecting the unexpected
like love could appear out
of thin air and she could
breathe it in by accident
if it were up to her,
the kind of love that
she would fall for
would be the endless
kind
Literature
Sink or swim
He stood on the dock
One foot reluctantly planted
The other standing at the ready
Like that fleeting moment
Suspended in mid-air
Gleefully anticipating the water on your skin
Yet apprehensive of those undiscovered depths
Which have yet to be kissed by sunlight
She dove in head-fist
Through the reeds and the icy darkness
And watched from below
As the light fragmented
Along the rippled surface
How stunning it was
Even in the deepest and feared unknown
Especially there.
In the light and in the dark
There was only him
He watched as she held her breath
Shackled by his own mind
Wanting for that planted foot
To be freed from its hesitations
Literature
The First Heat of Summer
Atoms stroke each other in the epidermis
Vitamin D on Golden rays
Salt and nectar winds
Thrown off the sullen blankets of winter
Plastic rubbing between your toes
Coarse sand and pink sunsets
The breath taken out of your lungs by the icy water
Atoms stroke each other in the epidermis
You learn to love yourself again
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beautiful disaster
end of all time
when i was younger, i used to write all over my arms in pen, because words would come to me and i didn't want to forget them. this still happens. i wrote this piece on my arm.
end of all time
when i was younger, i used to write all over my arms in pen, because words would come to me and i didn't want to forget them. this still happens. i wrote this piece on my arm.
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Comments16
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(: i used to write on my hand all the time.
now i have a notebook with me always.
i lovelove the first stanza of this.
now i have a notebook with me always.
i lovelove the first stanza of this.