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Literature Text
You are the blood flowing in and out of my veins
Into shards of black skies and crescent moons
Hanging from our palms and brushing our lips
The extinguished light of your eyelids
No longer burns bright
Rather they smolder between
Stolen glances and sips of tea
My blanket features are coming undone
Much like the seams of my scarecrow heart
Childhood nostalgia has never seemed so bleak
Into shards of black skies and crescent moons
Hanging from our palms and brushing our lips
The extinguished light of your eyelids
No longer burns bright
Rather they smolder between
Stolen glances and sips of tea
My blanket features are coming undone
Much like the seams of my scarecrow heart
Childhood nostalgia has never seemed so bleak
Literature
phantoms from a sleepless mind
most nights,
it takes a war to close
my eyes, & even then i
still see monsters.
my mind is a cemetery
full of whispers
best not mentioned
(because you'd never
believe me if i told you).
i just want to be free.
to wake up with a
craving for sunshine &
supernovas nestled in my
rib cage, instead of thorns
beneath my skin & bones
between my teeth.
Literature
How to Sleep and Never Wake Up
The year they discovered my best friend, twenty years old and silent under the heap of her wrecked car, I learned one can sleep forever and never wake up.
That year, her sister, only seventeen, ate magic mushrooms and lost her mind and her brother, fourteen, started running and stopped eating and I didn't eat magic mushrooms but lost my mind anyway as everyone watched my skin, too white to be real, disintegrate before their eyes.
That year I flew to Colorado to see an urn surrounded by pointe shoes. It reminded me more of a wastebasket than the last I would see of the girl who shared my soul. Her sister ran naked through the street a few da
Literature
Dead Bodies Don't Cry
i.
You are born with twisted feet
and a pockmark on your chest.
Your poor mother is drenched in sweat,
straining to breathe,
thanking God that it's over.
She cradles you in her arms
and kisses your forehead with curved lips.
Your father reaches out to hold you
but has to pause because
your mother will not release you yet.
The family pays a visit,
hovering in awe, praising, laughing.
You look around for someone to blame.
ii.
When you learn to write
you use all the wrong letters
because you feel sorry for the ones
that get left out, like X and Z.
And you wear mismatched clothes
because you don't like the idea that
only certain colors "go t
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Comments23
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this is really deep, man. Great job!