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Literature Text
I
You will leave me when the leaves change.
I try not to be afraid of the future
Whose rusty bear trap
Threatens to leave more scars across my past-tattered ankles...
Maybe this time ill mean it,
Liberate blood with vicious, not vanishing purpose when you go
Like she told me
You would.
II
I'd like to think battles hard fought leave more than battle
scars, and weathering bronze plaques.
Women who don't have fathers lose their minds and I'm afraid I've lost you --
I guess every veteran knows
The echo of an amputation.
III
Eventually, patience wears to translucent leaves on the grave marker --
With a weeping shovel you will bury me
under fives years' worth of soil I could never account for.
You will leave me when the leaves change.
I try not to be afraid of the future
Whose rusty bear trap
Threatens to leave more scars across my past-tattered ankles...
Maybe this time ill mean it,
Liberate blood with vicious, not vanishing purpose when you go
Like she told me
You would.
II
I'd like to think battles hard fought leave more than battle
scars, and weathering bronze plaques.
Women who don't have fathers lose their minds and I'm afraid I've lost you --
I guess every veteran knows
The echo of an amputation.
III
Eventually, patience wears to translucent leaves on the grave marker --
With a weeping shovel you will bury me
under fives years' worth of soil I could never account for.
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
Literature
Lullaby
"I've been waiting my entire life to tell you that I'm dying and I figured I'd finally get it over with.
So here I am, carving forgive me
into my teeth, so every time that I speak
I can still say that I'm sorry.
More years have passed in the last than I care to remember
but I could never forget:
In eighth grade my chorus teacher always told me,
'Michael, you'll never be good enough.'
and it always excited me. It reminded me of my mother.
On the last day of school she smiled,
her teeth jagged like a train wreck,
she didn't say a word,
but I knew exactly what she meant.
In high school I fell in love with a roadside bomb waiting to be deton
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…
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I tried to add one more stanza but my tablet literally wouldn't let me...I'm calling it a sign.
© 2013 - 2024 xxDearOblivionxx
Comments3
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This is very interesting. Great job!