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Literature Text
There's a part of me that stays awake all night.
I fight her. I hold her in. I strangle her.
Chains grip her so hard they cut rouge into her skin and leave her violet
for days
But
When everyone's gone, when the night is quiet and still and she can hear each
hours
herself
and what the pain that coils itself inside her could do
She's got to cry
She's got to cry
I watch
pitying what a sad fool she is, lingering on moments that are long gone and shying away from moments that could be beautiful but she
and it's far too sad that her hearts too far away, beating inside the palm of a boy who has already beaten it until it has turned many different shades of purple and blue, colors that are rather beautiful but not on something that should be red
I watch as her body fumbles and tosses and lays awkwardly, but it's reacting to the emptiness in her chest like a ticking time bomb that goes off when the sun goes down and the build up
is just too much
I fight her. I hold her in. I strangle her.
Chains grip her so hard they cut rouge into her skin and leave her violet
for days
- and days
- and days
But
When everyone's gone, when the night is quiet and still and she can hear each
- slow breath
hours
- and hours
- and hours
herself
and what the pain that coils itself inside her could do
She's got to cry
She's got to cry
I watch
pitying what a sad fool she is, lingering on moments that are long gone and shying away from moments that could be beautiful but she
- just can't feel it
and it's far too sad that her hearts too far away, beating inside the palm of a boy who has already beaten it until it has turned many different shades of purple and blue, colors that are rather beautiful but not on something that should be red
I watch as her body fumbles and tosses and lays awkwardly, but it's reacting to the emptiness in her chest like a ticking time bomb that goes off when the sun goes down and the build up
is just too much
Literature
makeshifts and shooting stars
dear diary,
if my calculations are correct,
this is day 24.
24.
the number of circles i've walked
around sky-scraping hopes
in worn-down shoes
filled with sand and salt.
24.
the number of makeshifts
i have learned to make from things
that once washed up on the shore
(just like me).
24.
the number of songs
stuck in my head
that prevent me from
hearing the ocean.
24.
the number of stars i count
before falling asleep.
i look up at the sky
and catch myself wishing upon every shooting star
that it's actually a man-made airplane,
coming to save me.
Literature
roadsigns.
i.
i have searched maps, road signs,
songs, hearts. i have opened my eyes
and my hands to the rain, fairytales
singing in my ears. i have closed my eyes
and let my nightmares and demons
find me, i have
screamed on the insides, heart
barely beating. i have dreamed
of my own destruction, whispered
into the silence, prayed for the answer -
ii.
could i ask you for one last favor?
when you're sad, remember the way
i would hug you. when you're laughing,
remember that my laughter doesn't sound
the same without yours. when you're lonely,
remember that i tried to fill your empty spaces. remember
that i'd fall for you if it saved you
Literature
balance beams.
one.
it is three a.m.
and even the crickets are
sleeping. the only sounds
are the commercials on t.v.
and the soft noise of my
breathing.
it is three a.m.
and my night light is broken
and it is too dark, too
quiet, and there is a monster
in my heart and
he won't go away.
two.
just so you know:
i named the monster
after you.
three.
i dreamed that we were
in a cave, black and blue. there was
a bottomless lake full of hope
and unwanted memories, and
we were
running, screaming, searching
for an exit
only to find
that there wasn't one.
four.
i spend my life on balance beams,
and
i can only try
not to fall off.
five.
Suggested Collections
“It's like you're screaming, and no one can hear
You almost feel ashamed
That someone could be that important
That without them, you feel like nothing
No one will ever understand how much it hurts
You feel hopeless; like nothing can save you
And when it's over, and it's gone
You almost wish that you could have all that bad stuff back
So that you could have the good”
You almost feel ashamed
That someone could be that important
That without them, you feel like nothing
No one will ever understand how much it hurts
You feel hopeless; like nothing can save you
And when it's over, and it's gone
You almost wish that you could have all that bad stuff back
So that you could have the good”
© 2012 - 2024 unstellastique
Comments2
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i wish i could cry
this draws up all of the feelings i'd cry if i were in an ok place
it's lovely
this draws up all of the feelings i'd cry if i were in an ok place
it's lovely