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Literature Text
how to act and
who to be
until you've got a grip:
talk too loudly,
laugh too often,
bite your lip,
but don't hold your tongue.
who to be
until you've got a grip:
talk too loudly,
laugh too often,
bite your lip,
but don't hold your tongue.
hide your skin--
they'll strip you raw.
Literature
flood
-
he tells you that your eyes are petal-fringed and the aftertaste of your smile is not unlike fettuccine; when you touch, he thinks of dandelions and dew and lunar expeditions.
"dandelions are weeds," you point out.
"a weed is just a flower in the wrong place," he says. you think of stardust, how we take pieces of ether for granted, and concede that— just maybe— he is right.
later, you will pinpoint this as the moment you gave him hope— a candle all too quick to burn the blind.
-
one day, he asks you if you believe in love.
"sure, for others," you say. "but not for me."
"why? i—" the words clustered in his jawbone
Literature
ocean burning.
one.
before she met you, she would reach for the sun while standing on the branches of trees, arms stretched towards the sunlight, reaching and waiting.
now, happiness is like a summer memory in the dead of winter - still there, but fading too fast to hold onto. now, she sits on rooftops with you at night, and the two of you watch as the city lights go out one by one.
two.
sometimes, when you laughed, she was reminded of the wind rushing through trees in winter - melodic and beautiful, but still cold, unforgiving.
the two of you watched the waves of the ocean take away the beach, piece by piece.
you were the waves.
she was the sand.
t
Literature
theme seventeen - blood
i.
red is a color of passion and lust
you liked it best because you were
the car-crash hips without all the
pillow talk that ruined the impact
ii.
i wanted to color the world scarlet
for you starting with daisies in your yard
i pricked my fingers before i picked them
and watched the petals blend with my genes
iii.
you told me that talk is empty and void
i chewed my lips until they bled before
i kissed you; i hoped maybe i could
flavor your words metallic and meaningful
iv.
music stopped working its way from your fingers
couldn’t feel it in your heart rate anymore
i sliced open my wrists with guitar strings
now you only
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Comments8
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too true. :/