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Literature Text
[it took him 129 days to finally stop breathing without you there.]
on day 32, he bought flowers and slid them into a thin vase
on the windowsill. a petal fell off and floated to a silent rest
on the water's surface, and a single ripple weakly faded away.
on day 58, he woke from a nightmare, clawed at the pillow
your picture was on, and his fingernail snagged on the paper.
he gazed wantonly for a minute at the ragged shreds, then
promptly turned on his side and shut his eyes.
on day 99, he thought you came back, and he cried out in joy,
only to watch as the tears washed away the blurred image of you.
he clutched at the wadded up napkins in his hand, and teardrops
fell, blending into the many there before them.
[on day 129, he lay six-and-a-half feet under the ground,
white daises scattered daintily around the freshly mounted earth.
you stood alone, in the rain and the trees, and you regretted how
you came back in time just to cry out in broken sobs.]
on day 32, he bought flowers and slid them into a thin vase
on the windowsill. a petal fell off and floated to a silent rest
on the water's surface, and a single ripple weakly faded away.
he threw the flowers out that night.
on day 58, he woke from a nightmare, clawed at the pillow
your picture was on, and his fingernail snagged on the paper.
he gazed wantonly for a minute at the ragged shreds, then
promptly turned on his side and shut his eyes.
the torn-up paper drifted off into the cracks between the floors.
on day 99, he thought you came back, and he cried out in joy,
only to watch as the tears washed away the blurred image of you.
he clutched at the wadded up napkins in his hand, and teardrops
fell, blending into the many there before them.
he saw you again that night, and wished himself to wake up.
[on day 129, he lay six-and-a-half feet under the ground,
white daises scattered daintily around the freshly mounted earth.
you stood alone, in the rain and the trees, and you regretted how
you came back in time just to cry out in broken sobs.]
Literature
so kill me, mockingbird
i once said, listen up,
because here's the way
it's going to work:
there will be milky ways
and mountains and clouds
dancing with rain,
the sun won't quite
look the same, and the moon
won't seem so dull.
i once said, come closer,
because there's something
that you need to know:
at night we'll breathe
against each other, move
with each other,
and our delirious melodies
will wake the waves
and shake the stars.
i once said, stay here,
don't go, never ever
leave me:
but here i am now,
eating my words
from a silver platter.
Literature
Love Is Unfair
I want to absorb your tears with my chest,
Taste the saltiness with my heart,
Leaving it to dry where it is,
And feel the warmth of you in my arms.
I took off my shirt for you to blow your nose,
So I can hear you breathe out in relief.
And it comes in such small warm gasps,
That I wish to collect them all just to keep you from the cold.
And tomorrow we are going to wake up and just be friends again.
There will be no more tears or warmth of unshed love.
So I feel I should be the one crying now,
Because I could not have loved you more.
Literature
shuteye
got my mama
a golden needle,
but
she hid it
in the hay -
told me
the sweet things in life
are worth looking for
over
and over
again
'til your eyes just
can't see
anymore.
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written for the Second Annual Poetry Screams Contest: [link]
prompt: "alone in the cemetery".
HIT 100 FAVES 1 WEEK AFTER SUBMISSION. thank you all. (:
---
comments/opinions/faves?
---
: does the fact that i did not state what form of love this piece is based on help the effect of the piece?
prompt: "alone in the cemetery".
HIT 100 FAVES 1 WEEK AFTER SUBMISSION. thank you all. (:
---
comments/opinions/faves?
---
: does the fact that i did not state what form of love this piece is based on help the effect of the piece?
© 2010 - 2024 electrickiss
Comments83
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oh my gosh no why
i love your work haha idk why i'm torturing myself by reading such heartbreaking things
i love your work haha idk why i'm torturing myself by reading such heartbreaking things