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Literature Text
Painted face:
Teased hair.
Dark blue dress that swims,
Water over legs, hips, waist, breasts.
Fear, want nothing less.
Hopes, songs,
Feeling alone.
Outward mask over headless
Thrown.
Delicate doe eyes,
Red bowed lips,
Dishonest spies,
Ready hips.
Over understanding and under impressions,
Never ending,
Wanting more and meaning less,
Never find the true
One under dress.
Teased hair.
Dark blue dress that swims,
Water over legs, hips, waist, breasts.
Fear, want nothing less.
Hopes, songs,
Feeling alone.
Outward mask over headless
Thrown.
Delicate doe eyes,
Red bowed lips,
Dishonest spies,
Ready hips.
Over understanding and under impressions,
Never ending,
Wanting more and meaning less,
Never find the true
One under dress.
Literature
Like a Man
"Please," he whimpered, eyes cast up from the polished linoleum as if in prayer, a single rivulet of blood trickling from a nostril. "I
I have a family."
"A family?" Charlie glanced from one crumpled heap of flesh and gristle to another, a distinct disinterest building behind insect black eyes. "How many kids?"
"I
t-two."
"Boy or girl?"
"Both boys."
He squatted next to the man, spinning the massive .357 on his finger like the protagonist of some spaghetti western. The barrel whirled around the blur of his hand like Death's private helicopter, gaining and losing momentum in an evident but indecipherable rhythm. He blew a
Literature
You, Me, and the Fireflies
There's a stable that holds consistency and horses
and men who don't know the difference.
There are fireflies- nature's dusk, flashlights,
and men who put them in jars.
Like how they think every person is a star.
We are not stars. We are people.
Do not mistake us for being brighter than we are.
Don't put light on our faces and say "look how bright she shines!"
Shining does not make a creature divine.
We are made in the image of who?
So why do we personify the things we are not.
Stars get names.
Babies get names.
Take the sky for what she is, and she will take you for what you are.
How would the world be if winter storms said,
"
Literature
With or Without Your Wings
I remember those days, way back when. You used to pretend that I was your princess, and I treated you in kind, like the prince you were. You were my fairytale, my imagination, my past, present, and future.
Well, maybe not my future. You might just be too larger-than-little-town-life to really stay here with me.
You always struck me as a city person, heart and soul. I can just see you there, surrounded by neon-bright lights and sugar-coated starlets and dreams bigger than I could ever be. And yet those cities still won't be able to keep you, because there's nothing quite big enough to blot out your light.
Or maybe you're just a small town
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Getting ready for prom. Don't really want to go but I have a date, a dress and got my hair done...so why not? Maybe it could be fun?
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Comments2
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...I've had the strangest image lately of attending a prom dressed as the Red Death just to shake things up-- come in, stalk through, point menacingly to all, disappear-- but kids these days don't read Poe. Doubt they'd get it.
Hope you had fun despite all the drama.
Hope you had fun despite all the drama.