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Literature Text
Seasons come around here
like they do everywhere else:
Spring spreads her touch across
frozen fields and brittle branches
left behind by Winter's solemn stare;
Summer drips molten sunshine
into Autumn, lifting her rusted skirts
With a breath of reluctant longing.
Just beyond Autumn's reach
and hidden from Winter's vigilant gaze,
a fifth season dwells, small and sallow,
her bare feet crusted in filth;
not for want: though she lives in famine,
she is too well fed.
She smacks on regret and sorrow,
shoves fistfuls of wretch and decay
past her lips; wipes the back of her hand
across her mouth and grins:
a morbid display of pointed teeth
yellowed by dismembered days.
She is the Dying Season,
and her feasting has begun.
like they do everywhere else:
Spring spreads her touch across
frozen fields and brittle branches
left behind by Winter's solemn stare;
Summer drips molten sunshine
into Autumn, lifting her rusted skirts
With a breath of reluctant longing.
Just beyond Autumn's reach
and hidden from Winter's vigilant gaze,
a fifth season dwells, small and sallow,
her bare feet crusted in filth;
not for want: though she lives in famine,
she is too well fed.
She smacks on regret and sorrow,
shoves fistfuls of wretch and decay
past her lips; wipes the back of her hand
across her mouth and grins:
a morbid display of pointed teeth
yellowed by dismembered days.
She is the Dying Season,
and her feasting has begun.
Literature
it rained one year ago today.
so i thought i
was invisible; and i
could hide from you and
your glances that cripple
and
break me.
-
so i thought you were
deaf; and you couldn't
hear me and i didn't
have to hide my words
along
with my actions.
-
so i thought i was
gone; and you weren't a part
of me anymore, but you found
ways
to stay inside of me when
i was
inside out.
-
it is cold outside and i'm
sitting on your porch
waiting for you to
come home
again; i remember one
year ago today, when we stood together
in the streets; in traffic.
we felt free.
we felt safe.
Literature
29
hair hot,rough against your face
the slender velodromes
,rushing down your cheeks (emotional
jetlag stiff,coineyed awake lonely
phones, three doors down, wretched december three ams
we lay beneath the skyline stretched
with winter veins :
breath ,and feel dusk sweep through your organs ,drown your soul
she always had heavy eyelids
Literature
Numbers
1600
The number of calories
Consumed today
131
What the scale says
That I currently weigh
100
A perfect flute score
Earning a hug from my father
3
The number of hugs last year
With which he could bother
6
The number of years
It's been since he died
82
The lowest grade on my report card
I cried
101
The number of non-accidental scars
Currently on my body
21
The number of roles
Which I've embodied
5
Written on the tag of jeans
I could not force myself to buy
4
The age when
I told my first lie
12.5
The number of crew hours
I have left at the least
150
The amount of money I need
For Beauty and the Beast
7
The
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Written for =dreamsinstatic's Poetry Screams contest using the prompt "The Dying Season."
Comments13
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This is great!! I love your style of poetry!!