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Literature Text
His eyes water, but never spill over.
My chest heaves, but never bursts.
The last time we say "I love you,"
is the time he says it first.
My chest heaves, but never bursts.
The last time we say "I love you,"
is the time he says it first.
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
kissing a ghost
bend.
once upon a
time, i
inhaled a shooting
star -
silver trail
it was a falling
star (in
ha[i]led)
like kissing a ghost
in the parking
lot in the
stairs hollow
lips pressed
against mine
you said darling i
won't be here
forever;
just long enough
to make you love
me,
sunrise dim on
the horizon, blur
ring the li(n)es -
there is the present
and there is the
future but the
past is merely
memories
/fingerprints
enclosed in
stories between
the pages
and the sun
it is strong it
is bright it is
scorching my moon-
possessed
flesh charring
my lungs burning
my heart
like kissing a ghost
blazing fire blazi
Literature
Loss
It is more than death: a loved one
vanishes into a gathering of ashes,
and still they are not immortalized
by that lump in the throat, that sense
of wrong, that homesickness, that love-
sickness--the unnameable, named. Baudelaire,
I am an unhealthy man now--
this is past forgetting, past frailty.
Age has whitened the crass lines
of my hair; apathy has sewn through
my thinning lips, has stilled each finger
from touching keys, or ink to paper.
Although I've shown the eye of each grape,
how they watch from a neighbor's unkept yard--
I care no longer about the sweetness
of their juice, or the miracle of finding
sense and hope in l
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He leaves tomorrow for the Army.
Commencing radio silence.
Commencing radio silence.
© 2012 - 2024 xxDearOblivionxx
Comments5
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This is short, to the point and very emotional.
I really like how you managed to put your emotion in four lines and let it speak so clearly.
I wish the best to both of you.
I really like how you managed to put your emotion in four lines and let it speak so clearly.
I wish the best to both of you.