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Literature Text
I thought I knew how to fight.
When words come down like a thunderstorm of fists upon your temples,
don't give in.
Clench your teeth
battle the urge to run:
she needs you now
more than ever...
I regret the subject.
Suddenly
she is more of a woman than I.
Maturity, however long developed,
pales in comparison to that blush,
that rosy opening,
no matter how rough
and clumsy
and passionless.
I should be sick over this,
over her weakness, his desperate insistence,
their inability to be true to each other
as well as themselves...
But instead, there's a different heat that moves up the throat
and settles, a solid knot, in the bottom of me.
Deeper than sin,
deeper than contempt,
a roiling coil of
shame...
This should be easy.
But everywhere, the holdouts are falling:
no more weathered walls,
no steadfast resolutions,
just broken glass and holes
in chain link fences.
Am I the final island?
When words come down like a thunderstorm of fists upon your temples,
don't give in.
Clench your teeth
battle the urge to run:
she needs you now
more than ever...
I regret the subject.
Suddenly
she is more of a woman than I.
Maturity, however long developed,
pales in comparison to that blush,
that rosy opening,
no matter how rough
and clumsy
and passionless.
I should be sick over this,
over her weakness, his desperate insistence,
their inability to be true to each other
as well as themselves...
But instead, there's a different heat that moves up the throat
and settles, a solid knot, in the bottom of me.
Deeper than sin,
deeper than contempt,
a roiling coil of
shame...
This should be easy.
But everywhere, the holdouts are falling:
no more weathered walls,
no steadfast resolutions,
just broken glass and holes
in chain link fences.
Am I the final island?
Literature
The Silent
The Silent
We are the hurt
The broken
The ignored
and the silent
We are the few who observe
From the corner where we sit
Forgotten by the people
Who’s lives throw them
Into social beings
We remain silent
Hoping one day in selfishness
That someone will break their trance
And speak to the silent who refuse
But observe
We hope one day
Someone will long to tear
Down our walls
That have kept us silent
But we will not let our walls
Be destroyed
For these walls are our treasure
And keep us safe to whom may hurt us
But we will keep it down
For who we care
But don’t be mistaken
For our walls are not to oppress
But to protect
To keep u
Literature
Her Silent Suicide
Solid oceans, liquid skies, a silent suicide
Close your eyes and hold your breath so you'll enjoy the ride
Drink the vodka, drink the wine, and drink until you're dead
Hush the others, let them go, and love yourself instead
Bathe beneath the alcoholic's secret wonderland
Medication in your throat and whiskey in your hand
Solid oceans never beat the sand among the shore
Liquid skies melt through the wind and slowly hit the floor
Silence drowns the universe as all does fade to black..
Through a silent suicide… now there's no turning back…
Literature
At Night, I Cry
At Night, I Cry
At night, I cry because I can’t stop thinking about the old me
When no one’s around, I weep warm tears that slide down my cheeks slowly
And it’s odd, I feel so unsatisfied but I refuse to use the word “unhappy”
I think back to the times where I would just laugh with my little friends, gleefully
Now that I’m older, I feel myself constantly over-thinking
Just constantly thinking of bad habits and fears
Maybe it’s something I did; maybe I’m the bad seed
Maybe I do deserve this horrible treatment by my peers
Or maybe I’m just doing what I do best, over-think
I do it
Suggested Collections
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Feeling like the last one left.
© 2013 - 2024 xxDearOblivionxx
Comments3
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I can't recall when was the last time I could review a piece of yours that isn't particularly adult, or touching on sexual themes though this is a strong work without those elements. I think the ideas at conflict here are big and you do a great job fleshing them out.
The narrative is simple enough, the narrator is watching a woman she is comparing to herself and that woman's relationship with another (who we can potentially assume was a former partner of the narrators). We see the narrator struggle with three ideas here, one is seeing herself as inadequate and her as a woman she could eventually be, two resenting this other woman and their relationship, and three envy. What's interesting is that while their relationship and her failed relationship with him may have no relation, the narrator is able to look at them with a sense of introspection. She's flummoxed by their relationship (even though she feels its shallow but we don't know if that's her resentment or a true statement) because she's better, and she may need to change.
Here's why that's interesting, because the other big idea here is loneliness. The narrator is grappling with it, and when she wonders why it is she's alone she's drawn (like many) to her mirror and self critique. What we're left to ponder is whether or not loneliness in general creates a greater self-awareness, for a problem that self-awareness may not be able to solve. When we're left on our own, is that a naturally destructive state that could breed more destructiveness? I think the work forces the readers to ask good questions about the nature of being alone and isolated.
One issue with this, I think the title was a little weak or at least not as related to the material as I thought it would be.
In the end fantastic work, it both engages and challenges.