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Literature Text
I tend to sleep
clutching my chest
my head under a pillow
to keep the monsters
from escaping
I would rather have them inside
feasting on my intestines
then abandon them to the night
That way I at the very least
have something to keep me
company
clutching my chest
my head under a pillow
to keep the monsters
from escaping
I would rather have them inside
feasting on my intestines
then abandon them to the night
That way I at the very least
have something to keep me
company
Literature
I, Apostrophe
Label me the apostrophe.
Providing union prophecies
and communion plays
to quench your exotic fixations
of fidelity.
Coaxing your child-caliber -
out
through coated girth and doubt.
Naming off syllables of sitcoms
till re-runs act as lungs -
breathing mediocrity as genius
and sewing smiles securely to your lips.
Undoubtedly, the quill tip sips
the prayers you pray for me
because no man's sonnet reeks or bleeds
such as this nomad's need.
Ignorantly, my bliss poises your beauty
and admits that I -
am your sole apostrophe.
Literature
brain squeals
I beat depressions in the earth
for my brain squeals and waves
that burst in my wet ears
until something makes me drown.
I will. (again) V.
Virginia,
put rocks in pockets
and walk right in --
I'll drink your overcoat
until your throat weeps
and your soaked hair
weighs you down.
I promise.
with love,
Ouse.
P.S.
brain squeals are from cold sweats
sleep well.
Literature
You Will
I
Catholic school can really fuck you up.
Petty insults;
“you have ugly hair”
“got milk?”
Breasts at the age of nine.
Bullying makes you someone you don’t want to become;
hide all that blackness in your heart
with overly cheerful hyperactive personalities
(that make others think you’re a little strange),
quickly forgotten.
Friends can’t tell when you just want to
scream
and cry
and be alone
because of how deep you’ve dug yourself in.
Afraid of yourself, you think and think, and THINK,
until you are terrified you’re going to give in
to those dark thoughts -
(and if you do, then y
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I wrote this many weeks ago at 3 AM.
It was a horrible night.
It was a horrible night.
© 2013 - 2024 ghearradh
Comments7
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That's rather an intriguing concept - the monsters are not what the narrator is afraid of. They are comrades in the face of fear.
Congratulations on the DLD!
Congratulations on the DLD!