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Literature Text
only the most
beautiful of creatures
live the shortest.
red roses and quivering
butterflies and other
useless things, like the
way she wishes on every star
she sees for a different
soul because she can't stand
the way it's rotting inside.
and it's only when
the thorns beneath her skin
start to bleed that her
monsters whisper, "have
you ever trembled, my dear?"
because they know
for every whimper that hides
faintly in the dark,
there is a pair of lips stretched
into a smile pretending
that all that is beautiful
is timeless and unbroken.
Literature
Truth
We are often eager to surrender,
Because the burden of choice is harsh.
We would rather blame others for our failings,
Instead of seeking an answer within our mistakes.
I am as guilty as anyone else when it comes to this.
How many days have I spent screaming at the darkness;
Spitting bitter words that blistered my own lips...
Even as my eyes grew clouded, shrouded by hate.
I railed against iron walls about a solitude I had created.
Anger became my mask for an open plea:
Because I simply wanted someone to acknowledge me...
Literature
never become a writer
i.never become a writer.
you will become a perfectionist,
picking life apart
with a magpie's eye,
hunting for the beautiful bits
until you can make yourself
a sparkling throne
in the center of a junkyard.
ii.you will write when you're sad.
you will write when you're happy.
whenever you feel something,
you will vomit the emotion out
into some sort of literature.
when you're finished,
you'll be empty
and surrounded by
pages and pages of
everything you once were.
iii.you will try to make
pain sound delicious,
painting over the ragged wounds
with pink paint
and candy-coat lies.
you will learn
how to decorate graveyards.
everyone will play
Literature
In my head...
In my head,
The birds that fly above me
Are the dragons of my kingdom.
In my head,
Cats and dogs are lions and wolves,
And my fish is a sea monster.
In my head,
My pen is a sword,
And I’m fighting witches and evil men
To find my prince charming.
In my head,
Butterflies spin through the air
And fly through my bedroom windows
To whisper things in a language
That only I understand.
In my head,
There is a world other than
These black and white dreams
And these faded grey skies.
In my head,
There is a universe.
Can’t you see it, too?
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Hey guys, I'm not dead. I just can't write anymore. Here's a thing I've been trying to write for a week now. It's bad. I know. I just need to write something and post it. I'm sorry.
Sometimes life really isn't fair and wishes won't ever come true.
© 2014 - 2024 lupus-astra
Comments44
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It's not bad,it's really good.In a way it speaks the truth.And the truth can sometimes always the hardest thing to write/come about.