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Literature Text
i.
your roots took hold in everything
that was poisonous to society; i told
myself it didn’t matter because the best
way to learn was from past mistakes
ii.
it wasn’t long until the cell wall stems that
kept you up began to bring us down; i could
taste the chlorophyll on your shaky breath
when you asked me if you were stable yet
iii.
but your pollen permeated through my
nostrils and our orchestrated sex; i tried my
best to be your prince charming but you only
made love to the hordes of busy worker bees
iv.
and i always imagined your petals stretching
to the sky and the stars and everything beyond;
now they shrink and whither and fall to the ground
in shadows of everything that you could have been
v.
at night you crawl between my bed sheets and
tear my roots and snap my stems; you inhale
my pollen and peel my petals back from my skin
as you whisper that i love you, i love you not
your roots took hold in everything
that was poisonous to society; i told
myself it didn’t matter because the best
way to learn was from past mistakes
ii.
it wasn’t long until the cell wall stems that
kept you up began to bring us down; i could
taste the chlorophyll on your shaky breath
when you asked me if you were stable yet
iii.
but your pollen permeated through my
nostrils and our orchestrated sex; i tried my
best to be your prince charming but you only
made love to the hordes of busy worker bees
iv.
and i always imagined your petals stretching
to the sky and the stars and everything beyond;
now they shrink and whither and fall to the ground
in shadows of everything that you could have been
v.
at night you crawl between my bed sheets and
tear my roots and snap my stems; you inhale
my pollen and peel my petals back from my skin
as you whisper that i love you, i love you not
Literature
Halation
Wait until tomorrow comes,
when moonbeams dance on silvered tiptoes
and stars live in the black spaces between your ribs
pushmumbling beneath your skin.
So that your secrets hidden in little known places,
will be lit by the moon boats casting anchor in the color of your eyes
and the glow of firefly comets drifting about your heart.
[or maybe a soul]
Literature
imitating life
if it's too broke
don't fix it
pick apart the problems
put the pieces on exhibit
see, my pen breathes & bleeds
because my heart beats too afraid
mistakes made into art
in an attempt to trick my trade
a steady fade away from focus
on the flaws that frame this feeling
fact lacks the impact that makes
fiction so appealing
and an admission's less revealing
(w)rapped in a rhymer's guise
private parts don't rank so major
when they've been generalized
All diameters specified,
and written compositions
from those passed who testified
Limbs encased, and set aside
Windows to the hell inside,
The clash of when my pen collides
Among
Literature
you can pretend it's...
she speaks
occasionally
that once-in-a-while way
familiar to earthquakes
and the end
of civilizations
she shakes
when she's alone
understandable I'd
shake (alone with her)
see
she's buried in the bottle
and
you can bury me in boston
when
wide-eyed and wondering
this same sky comes crashing
down
and I
won't claim I wasn't warned
about hanging stars from expectations
but I'm
second nature embarrassment and
first nature proceed anyhow
even now
I'm still reaching
but she's on the other side
of beautiful
Suggested Collections
entry thirty.one for the hundred themes challenge
your simple joy was tearing me apart
next: theme thirty.two - night
previous: theme thirty - rain
your simple joy was tearing me apart
next: theme thirty.two - night
previous: theme thirty - rain
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Comments73
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the ending just ties it all together beautifully.