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Literature Text
I’m sorry to say
This may be my last
To my dismay
This was part of my past
I’m not sure
If it will be missed
If it was not for her
I would not exist
She was the one
Who destroyed reality
Now that you’re done
At last some finality
But is that all
That they write
When I fall
The world turns white
Nothing exists
Outside the door
If anything resists
It is no more
The wasteland is so vast
Destruction is the key
I know at long last
What will be set free
This may be my last
To my dismay
This was part of my past
I’m not sure
If it will be missed
If it was not for her
I would not exist
She was the one
Who destroyed reality
Now that you’re done
At last some finality
But is that all
That they write
When I fall
The world turns white
Nothing exists
Outside the door
If anything resists
It is no more
The wasteland is so vast
Destruction is the key
I know at long last
What will be set free
Literature
Who are you?
"Who are you?"
said the Caterpillar.
"Who are you?"
But how could she answer?
The identity of a person is not so
easily known, and one has to think very hard
before one can say with certainty.
She could be a beautiful winged horse whose flesh
glows with the golden, incandescent dust of fairies, her
mane a sugary concoction of pinks and blues with streaks of
black and green whilst her tail is a brazen red that would shock the senses of
even the wildest of flames.
Or perhaps she could be a jellyfish that carves paths through
the darkest and lightest of waters, the bell shape of her body
as large as her blue skirts and her trailin
Literature
scent.
theres something so comforting so
warm about my bedroom with wooden floors
splattered with paint from childhood art
projects and science experiments.
theres something so nostalgic about the way
evening sunlight filters through the closed
white curtains and makes squares of weak
gold on the cotton.
there is something so numbing about laying in front
of this heater until my face takes on a sweet burning and
i get a temporary hot river of blood pounding beneath
my cheeks.
when i cant see the floor it feels smaller in here safer in here
almost familiar in that:
i have no fucking clue where a damn thing is
and part of me doesn't want to know
Literature
Astral Romance
Pure flow and afterglow
The lights between hearts
I am but a star
But you are blue fire
You ink into the swirl
Turning black to blaze
I gaze, amazed
Your eyes shine so much brighter
There is no purest glimmer
Nor thought to contain
I cannot stay
So please save a piece of me
It'll thrum with my voice
And you will know my choice
I'll show you
Don't fade just yet
I hold two possibilities
I lie when I can't see
My heart breaks
Collect the light before it goes
Remember me as I was then
Back through the time-stream
I won't remain
So stay with me under this doom
Love is so frail in vogue
And less so in a vacuum
But I love you
So engrave it in
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Comments1
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I like it. But, it also makes me reflect on my life c':