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Literature Text
There are days where she
forgets how to fly;
wings all tangled up in
misguided heartstrings.
"There is nothing wrong with me,"
she insists,
"Nothing at all.
I just can't seem to
grow up."
The clock strikes
midnight -
she's nothing but
misled faith,
broken trust,
and withering pixie dust.
Literature
Show me what the stars look like tonight.
I’ve fallen in love with wars & darkness.
The kind of darkness said to have made
shadow monsters of seen-too-much eyes
& the kind of war lands made of
desecrated, dandelion wrists.
I am the wind, the morphine pump
& I’ve carved my bones into stars.
I wear them around my neck
like outward sun marrow
warming my carotid pulse.
These little glow-in-the-dark blankets
aren’t enough to stifle the sounds;
but my anatomy never seemed to fit
together the right way anyway.
Literature
She Dances With Fire
She dances with fire, a dragon in tow.
Twirling with flames; graceful and slow
She dances tonight, in a city of ash.
Her feet leaving footprints, where the sand will splash.
Quietly mourning, as time goes by;
Where once she beheld a home in her eyes...
Yet naught but the barest of bones remain,
And so she dances, to soothe the pain.
Literature
Bones mend, but tell no lies.
You have cataloged your scars
like your body is a library-
to be read through &
learned from.
You think of
all the little boys
whose greedy fingers
graced
your pages.
You are angry-
none
cared for you
properly:
folding
creasing
& breaking
your spine.
They left you
on a shelf
to gather dust.
& why
should you ever
forget that?
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- and straight on 'til morning.
I don't want to grow up; I want to stay with Peter in Neverland forever.
I don't want to grow up; I want to stay with Peter in Neverland forever.
© 2013 - 2024 lupus-astra
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