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Literature Text
You said the drops of Jupiter
Hidden in my eyes
Made me beautiful.
Liar.
I was never beautiful.
You said I lit up the night like
A galactic revolution and
Made the moon seem dull
Liar.
Wall flowers don’t shine.
You said I was Orion’s Belt,
Enveloping the vast
Expanses of your mind
Liar.
I can barely hold myself together.
You said I was too good for this world,
And promised there was
More to it all.
Liar.
We both know this is
All I’ll ever be.
Funny how someone you call
Star-bound can
Feel so lost
Among the stars.
Hidden in my eyes
Made me beautiful.
Liar.
I was never beautiful.
You said I lit up the night like
A galactic revolution and
Made the moon seem dull
Liar.
Wall flowers don’t shine.
You said I was Orion’s Belt,
Enveloping the vast
Expanses of your mind
Liar.
I can barely hold myself together.
You said I was too good for this world,
And promised there was
More to it all.
Liar.
We both know this is
All I’ll ever be.
Funny how someone you call
Star-bound can
Feel so lost
Among the stars.
Literature
dear depression,
(master of the umbra)
i hate you.
broken whispers, lonely promises,
you are the worst of lovers, owning all, but
never seeming to be satisfied
even with your name branded scarlet into my wrists.
i am no longer the golden songbird as when you first met me,
but yet
you still hang onto me
your claws
raking across my heart like
my pen ripping across the bloodstained page, like
lightning across the skies, (vengeance
raining down from the gods i used to believe in)
"don't let them catch you,"
you breathed into my ears.
an ounce of life, in exchange for a cloak of darkness (i thought i'd only stay one night)
the fog was sluggish and deep.
so bl
Literature
what to do when he doesn't say it back
a)
you will give all of yourself to a boy who won't know you at all.
he will recycle your parts, make you stationary, bind you into
paper that he will gift back so you can write poetry about him.
you, too, say i love you quickly.
when he doesn't say it back, evaporate.
b)
he will kiss you in places you didn't know existed.
until him, you were a peasant in your body's palace.
he crowned you princess, broke the lock of your castle's gates.
when he doesn't say it back, load your cannons.
c)
you are a fountain pen.
look him in the eye when you write him letters on your skin.
when he asks to read them, surrender.
you have always be
Literature
The Girl Who Was Afraid To Be
She speaks to me fondly
of passions and talents,
of guitars and stars,
with such breathless intensity
then stops short and
apologises
for speaking at all.
All because somewhere in her life,
someone she loved broke her heart
by ignoring
her beautiful words
and telling her to
shut up,
keep it down,
nobody cares.
People aren’t born sad.
We make them that way.
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Comments7
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I agree that self-deprecatory is not good, BUT you've touched upon a very, well, universal emotion here. We're all the center of someone's world, but often just feel like dirt anyway. Thank you for taking me on this journey (did you plan it?).
; )
Sean
; )
Sean