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Literature Text
She stands tall
Alone
Amongst the ashes
Of her all
A child in a misshapen form.
Spectres of memory
Melancholy
Joy
Adoration
Anguish
Cloud her countenance
Her eyes, bright and keen.
Scanning the horizon
She traces the unchartered peaks with her tongue
Delighting in the worn roughness
Of cracked enamel
And the taste of metal.
She is far
From her bloody body
Scarlet marring translucent white.
She takes a small, teetering
Step
Finding her new feet
Feeling the comforting crunch
Of Bone and sand and dust
She advances
Never
Looking
Back
Over
The
Edge
Of
The
World
Alone
Amongst the ashes
Of her all
A child in a misshapen form.
Spectres of memory
Melancholy
Joy
Adoration
Anguish
Cloud her countenance
Her eyes, bright and keen.
Scanning the horizon
She traces the unchartered peaks with her tongue
Delighting in the worn roughness
Of cracked enamel
And the taste of metal.
She is far
From her bloody body
Scarlet marring translucent white.
She takes a small, teetering
Step
Finding her new feet
Feeling the comforting crunch
Of Bone and sand and dust
She advances
Never
Looking
Back
Over
The
Edge
Of
The
World
Literature
Conventional Tragedies
Her mother was a sphinx, she was her favorite riddle,
her father played lullabies on Lucifer's fiddle.
Her facade was a doll, with a torn out pull string,
she lost it in a battle with an innerspring.
Her hopes were static ivy that crackled so high,
white noise never failed in making her cry.
Her belly was a bird cage that was empty inside,
she buried the song in her mind when it died.
Her skin was a roadmap of savage tattoos,
and bruised evil eyes inked in with voodoo.
Her hair was a tangle of fate 'round her head,
so she cut it off madly, and colored it red.
Her heart was a temple, without any worship,
'till spiders replaced lov
Literature
May Clovers Grow
May clovers grow upon your grave.
May you have meadowlarks as angels,
winging, singing Aves.
May the willow weep because you're gone.
May the sunlight and the rain fall down,
So that clovers may grow upon your grave.
Literature
a story of freedom
even gravity
forgot me
yesterday
i floated
pulled faces
laughed at
disfigured
beards
& sung silly
christmas carols
in the burning
sun
because not
even gravity
could see
& i felt
me
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
Entry for the 4th Annual Poetry Screams Contest [link]
© 2012 - 2024 takemetoverona
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