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Literature Text
The moon explained my neighbours' rooftops
were not stories
were not waves
were not the hills of another country.
They were slate
to stop them dying
that night -
or even this one -
and the lights were just
proof
that everyone was okay.
were not stories
were not waves
were not the hills of another country.
They were slate
to stop them dying
that night -
or even this one -
and the lights were just
proof
that everyone was okay.
Literature
water-colour emotions
you can't buy happiness, but you can buy tea, and thats kind of the same thing. i've been told that i have a knot inside my chest,
like those of the inside of a tree truck, eternally circling and looping. thats kind of how it feels, heavy and unstoppable.
if i have a tree inside me, then maybe that could explain the shaking, its just the westerly winter winds blowing and
making my far too fragile limbs bend but never break. i soak the tea leaves into the roots that are deep within my
fleshy heart and hope the capillaries will carry to wherever the aches are most ingrained and unnatural.
mother told me thr
Literature
I wanted to grow old with you
I wanted to grow old with you:
turn grey and fade away, subdued.
To walk with you through all the years
and face, as one, our darkest fears.
We'd burn too brightly for this Earth
and share in sorrow and in mirth;
to each the other's soul would bare
and twice the love, at once, declare.
For each would know the other's mind
and there a perfect solace find;
we would be two, though as one known –
discrete though merged & mingled grown.
I wanted to grow old, it's true:
turn grey and fade to dust with you.
Literature
Anxieties of a Conflicted Introvert
I.
[i don’t want to
have to tell you i’m
sorry
again but
lately it’s been tough.
And i’m stricken with this feeling that
maybe i’m not good enough.]
run.
you see, somewhere out there
birds are looking for nests and birds
are finding them in the ribcages of souls but i
am tired of picking straw from my heart
and strings and hair that wrap around my fingers i’m—
[well sometimes i’m a little lonely
but i never wanted to tell you that]
escape.
--tired of seeing the ball i wind from
those leftover nests grow and grow—
[and i want more, want more,
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I had this in my scraps but re-read it and I kind of like it still.
© 2013 - 2024 Gay-Mountain
Comments1
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The sun interrupted my living space
a story exposed
a flooding
the ocean of my home
I was lined up
to be seen unborn
that afternoon -
just this once -
and the darkness was there
lying
to me - nothing good.
a story exposed
a flooding
the ocean of my home
I was lined up
to be seen unborn
that afternoon -
just this once -
and the darkness was there
lying
to me - nothing good.