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Literature Text
- i.
i think someday we'll all run
out of words -
people always
forget what they were going
to say, never remember
the names of the places left
behind, and it
hurts when it's my name
your lips can't find.
it reminds me we're
all ghosts, we're only imprints
of what we were some time
ago and i can't
change that, i can't
change you - note
to self: your fingers can't keep
what they can't touch.
ii.
it hurts when family
leaves you, don't it, when they
find a way to rip their life
into two because
they're the unhappy ones -
when it doesn't
help to call them selfish because
you know you're gonna end
up the same way, you'll be the one
doing the leaving when
your time comes
around -
and for some reason,
you'll end up
being more okay with that
turn of the road than
you thought you'd be.
iii.
it's hard to remember that
we all dream of what won't happen -
not everything finds
a happy ending, you know, sometimes
things end in flames,
shoot up to
singe your lips, and trust
me when i say that i
know how it burns.
the lines we walk don't know
how to be clear-cut, they
don't know
of black and white because
this world's too full of
chaos to demand
simplicity from simple things.
we are graffitied and
marked
and my skin
can't tell me
if my eyes are blue or if that's
my voice - i blend in
to the
background
(with you).
iv.
think sometime about what
we are versus what we could have
been, all the
things we could have
done if we hadn't wasted
years to sit
and watch dead stars -
we could've found a cure
for our disease
(it's called loneliness)
by now but no, no,
we've just found the virus itself
and i think we'd be better
off falling into it.
v.
we've all been
left behind, we've all been
forgotten sometime and i think
it's gotten to us -
we're scared of lightning, not
the storm, and these
unspoken words are digging
like scars into our skin,
leaving marks
like tallies and telling
us that it's going to be hard to
move on and not count
the steps we've
taken backwards.
we're the battered and the
bruised but i
think that's why we're here - this world
needs something to
vent to, needs some souls to
take her hand and when
we run out,
so will she.
vi.
it hurts when things just
leave you, don't it -
but you'll get
them back someday.
Literature
Hope never dies
Hopes beat fast as we look
Onward past the hurt and pain
Pieces of this harsh life stay behind
Efforts to make it better are always worth it
Now we are living in the present
Enjoying life when we can
Venturing forward
Entering a new stage in life
Restarting and leaving the past behind
Death we'll never fear
It's just another adventure
Endless days in this life but
Somehow we'll find a way.
Literature
Synesthetic
Sometimes I taste test names;
Anita – sharp citrus
and lemongrass
for the ann-i,
a tortilla for the taa.
Brad – I like
its weight; a slab
of marbled chocolate
melted on my tongue
before the last letter.
Charlotte – something
savory, but sweet; pork
marinated in honey
on sweet rolls.
Doug – vanilla
tinged cheesecake;
a dusting of graham
cracker shavings;
an Oreo with no filling.
Elena – spice
and heat radiate –
eh-layne-ahh – a corona
bursting from
the second e.
Fletcher – it’s syllables
mesh like mashed
potatoes, lumpy yet
consistent.
Gladys – dried
lemons and stale
Spre
Literature
8 things optimism taught me
i. I told him I wouldn’t write sad poetry if he gave me a reason, and he gave me three, pressing kisses to my temples, letting his shoulders lean against mine like trees into a breeze.
ii. He told me that some poems don’t need words, beauty doesn’t always require eyes. He told me there is poetry in the slats of light encased within our interlaced fingers, that there is beauty in the slow passing of dancing minute and hour hands.
iii. I told him that I only saw poetry in the stamps emblazoned within my passport. He said that I was running from so-called misery, not stopping to see that sadness was a mesh, a filter,
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Wow. I really want to say something about this, but- kind of fittingly, I suppose- I don't know what I can say to describe what I feel about this.
Beautiful.
Beautiful.