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Literature Text
I'm not ready to meet you yet,
I need to have a mental breakdown
Or two
That I'd rather you didn't see.
You can meet me down the road
When my mess is just a story,
Part of my mysteriously alluring past
Not the painfully present now
It will seem so romantic,
My idealised mental anguish,
When you don't have to deal with it
Day after day
I'm sorry to tell you,
But please come back later
When I'm a bit saner
And you somewhat braver
And both a lot easier to love.
I need to have a mental breakdown
Or two
That I'd rather you didn't see.
You can meet me down the road
When my mess is just a story,
Part of my mysteriously alluring past
Not the painfully present now
It will seem so romantic,
My idealised mental anguish,
When you don't have to deal with it
Day after day
I'm sorry to tell you,
But please come back later
When I'm a bit saner
And you somewhat braver
And both a lot easier to love.
Literature
River Dream
Where I exist, the seasons linger or
die too soon.
I cannot see the subtle changes, or
hear the cadence of their wings.
I feel the shift and taste the residue
between our lips,
and on the air where it also lingers.
His passing will bring the rain but
I covet him more, suspended as we are
between the seasons.
And when dusk is touched by the brows
of moths, he will fade away,
a harbinger of autumn's end before it
begins, while I drift a river dream
over which a new moon ascends.
An oar dips silently and I shiver.
Literature
Relapse
It’s like counting
Saturn’s rings,
hash marks
along your limbs -
remembering a time
when
‘just one more’
made you feel better.
- & you’re sitting there
wondering why
Draco, stuck in limbo
always looks like he’s
falling.
-dp
Literature
ellipsis
she goes to sleep
clawing at her chest with pinpoint accuracy
for an emptiness she can’t describe,
but hates all the same. tomorrow
she will write a letter: “dear boy,
i always wanted to be somebody’s
flowery poem, but the verses carved in my arms
are riddled with ugly clichés. & you are why
i don’t sleep through the night. if
we were a language, i was the
subordinating conjunction, you were
the punctuation.
i remember you in staccato
conclusions, solemn absences
of goodbye”
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Comments21
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Wow. This is exactly how I felt with my girlfriend! I just didn't exactly know how to say it. You do it perfectly!