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Literature Text
There's something in the pale placid blue of your eyes
Watching grey tendrils fade into a dark night
As they leap from the soft red embers
Perched at the end of an off brand cigarette.
"Everyone wants to be beautiful," you say,
Letting the words drip from the tarnished silver of your tongue
And slide down the makeup caked on your jaw
To lie in pools like nightsoil on street corners
Stiffened by winter winds and carelessness.
"You are beautiful," I say,
But the words ring a haunting hollow,
A single breath in a stillborn sea of wasted breaths,
Some shining schoolgirl promise
After a dozen deafened seasons have spun each other round.
Literature
Running Away
"What are you afraid of?" He had asked her as they lay there, under a bay window that showed a velvet black sky, sprinkled with sparkling diamonds. After a few minutes, a hand reached out and took his. He looked down at the soft hand, paper white with rivulets of sapphire under the skin. It had never occurred to him just how much he loved her hands until now.
"Would you like the truth? Or will a lie suffice?" A dulcet voice whispered. She had still not turned to look at him, but her hand in his remained strong.
"The truth." He always asked her for the truth. He didn't want rubies of falsehood, of lies, to ruin what they had taken so long to
Literature
please let me get what i want.
For two hundred and eighty four days, I woke up. I woke up with this bone-deep ache that never went away. I woke up to an incessant question playing in my mind that would never be answered. I woke up alone.
For two hundred and eighty four days, I woke up without you when I woke up at all. The thing about time is that it never does make anything better. It just means more space to think. It means sleepless nights trying to figure it all out. When it went wrong. How to make it better. It means slowly losing my mind. But it never once meant getting over you.
It's funny how the things you think you've forgotten always come rushing back when you
Literature
You're still just a child
There's a thousand petty secrets,
in this one pathetic mind.
The question is, what will you do,
just so you can hide?
Some people just grow distant,
and cover with a mask.
Other's lie right through their teeth,
so they can do the task.
Look through this shining armor,
and give yourself a peek.
At the shattered soul that's underneath,
playing Hide-and-Seek.
A child on the inside,
no matter what you say.
I know that you were forced to grow,
but now it's time to play.
When will you see that it's ok to cry?
You don't have to run, don't have to lie.
Things can get better, if only you'd try.
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Comments23
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"You are beautiful" always sounds hollow. "I want you" is much more honest.