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Literature Text
When I think of that first day, I will always remember the air as being too warm, and your clothes being wrinkled, your hair a complete mess. I remember how your nerves had your every sentence starting with “uhm” and how I hated indecisiveness and you couldn’t make up your mind, and I remember thinking I could do better without you. Now, I know that first impressions aren’t quite as important as they tell you every time you open that front door with your mismatched socks and complimentary sarcasm, armed with a crooked smile and bad grammar. Because if that were true, I would have said hello and goodbye in the same sentence. Hell, if that were true I never would have loved you.
It was September before you calmed down enough to look me in the eye when you were talking. My friends kept asking me why I wasting my time with you, but I knew there was something special hidden behind all your short sentences, wrapped inside the bundle of nerves that created you, that held you together. I knew I needed to unravel you a bit to get to the good part. I just didn’t know how long it would take.
The first time we kissed was electric. When people typically say this, I think they are underestimating what it means. I know that not everyone sparks when they kiss, but if I could explain it to you, I would say it was like the taste of lightning, with all the thunder rumbling through your veins, it’s as if you could light up a room with just a flick of your smile, like your whole body is made of filaments and wires, waiting for the spark of another’s lips on yours to set you ablaze. We were electric and I knew then that I had made all the right choices.
When I think of that first day, I don’t see a boy that I loved, but one that I would grow to. The thing you have to realize about life is that not everything begins and ends in an instant. When I met you, I thought I had reached the finish of the most important things that had ever happened to me, but I was wrong, it was actually just beginning. See, that’s the thing about the world, the best things happen when you least expect it. My best thing is you.
It was September before you calmed down enough to look me in the eye when you were talking. My friends kept asking me why I wasting my time with you, but I knew there was something special hidden behind all your short sentences, wrapped inside the bundle of nerves that created you, that held you together. I knew I needed to unravel you a bit to get to the good part. I just didn’t know how long it would take.
The first time we kissed was electric. When people typically say this, I think they are underestimating what it means. I know that not everyone sparks when they kiss, but if I could explain it to you, I would say it was like the taste of lightning, with all the thunder rumbling through your veins, it’s as if you could light up a room with just a flick of your smile, like your whole body is made of filaments and wires, waiting for the spark of another’s lips on yours to set you ablaze. We were electric and I knew then that I had made all the right choices.
When I think of that first day, I don’t see a boy that I loved, but one that I would grow to. The thing you have to realize about life is that not everything begins and ends in an instant. When I met you, I thought I had reached the finish of the most important things that had ever happened to me, but I was wrong, it was actually just beginning. See, that’s the thing about the world, the best things happen when you least expect it. My best thing is you.
Literature
I want to forget names,
& faces,
& people.
I want to forget their veins,
fingerprints forever burned into my eyelids;
wrists I can't look at
without longing to tear apart.
Spine full, and spiteful:
I want to cry
roses in my midnight tea
for these star collapsed lungs.
I want to cry for her
& for me.
But Shame,
she wont allow me the courtesy.
Literature
let's pretend this never happened
because honestly,
i don't know you and this was
just a big mistake, she says
very softly.
the morning sun peeks in
through the curtain as she pulls
on yesterday's shirt and i catch
my last glimpse of her thin
shoulder blades, protruding like
wings about to burst out of their
seams. she won't look at me.
the floor creaks with her weight
as she gathers her things. i've
already forgotten her eyes, wide
with wonder, and her lips, her
slender jawbone. i wish she
would turn around. i try to speak,
but words don't come.
her bare feet pad across the
room and she pauses in the doorway,
head turned to the side, as if listening,
perhaps to my h
Literature
I think you left a piece of you in me.
This tangled mess you call a heart,
daisy veins & sin;
She's bringing me down.
& you were merely shivering
kite-string clavicles.
Nothing,
pressing winter bones
against my sun-stricken mouth,
darkness searching for a home
buried in my lungs.
You whispered breathe me
lovely in the inhale/exhale
of carbon dioxide suicide.
She speaks only of you now,
lonely & mourning beats-
Crack open this damn ribcage;
set me
free.
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Comments4
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woman! you give me feels. So many feels. This is so beautiful