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Literature Text
Paper thin paper skin, caressed by the paper gown.
Her eyes, mesmerized, watched as the numbers went down.
Life came with a knife and wiped out her light.
Her mother and brother prayed she'd be alright.
Her eyes held a bright light that's been taken by force
At least, at last, she's a beautiful corpse.
Her eyes, mesmerized, watched as the numbers went down.
Life came with a knife and wiped out her light.
Her mother and brother prayed she'd be alright.
Her eyes held a bright light that's been taken by force
At least, at last, she's a beautiful corpse.
Literature
10 Things I Learned...
i. Nobody has the right to tell you how to feel – including your Mother. If somebody makes you feel uncomfortable, upset, anxious, or any feeling remotely classed as ‘bad’, you have every right to have that feeling (or any feeling), and you most certainly have every right to voice and express the way you feel. Upon expression, the person who caused those feelings has no right to make excuses for themselves – the only acceptable response is an apology and an effort to understand. Sometimes, I just need to feel something. Anything. Even if that feeling is pain.
ii. Your smile is infectious. Never stop seeing the beauty
Literature
the ghost
I don't know what I'm waiting for,
because I am a ghost and yet
I sit on my hands and wonder
where you've been -
I walk the forest in circles,
the methodical crunch
of leaves beneath my feet
and I remember
that you made me feel small,
and alone. here I am, facing
this brilliant hue that is me and myself
and I am the ghost but somehow
you are haunting me.
Literature
6-4-14
We stay at a hotel in the middle of somewhere-nowhere, Illinois, small-town-almost-no-town-at-all. If you trek a half-mile in that direction you'll find a sort of main street. Most of the shop buildings are for rent, storefronts stand empty and dark, ceilings inside collapsed, some species of scattered lesser temples, innumerable ages ago discarded.
I walk long miles by night or day down empty railroad tracks, the tracks of passing writers, painters, engineers, coal, hydrochloric acid, freight. The rail guards riding last cars wave in passing and leave me on my way. Gravel and porous fossil-like cement rocks crunch at every step.
Peop
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Comments2
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This is fucking lovely. Love the structure.