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Literature Text
Hot cup of tea,
white lines waving and dancing.
Textbook in hand,
and I guess all I can feel is some sort of intrigue.
And sadness. Memories come back.
It's a nostalgic feeling, really.
It's been years since I've felt this particular sadness.
It's not the same sadness as watching your favorite character dies.
It's not the same sadness as when your favorite show ends.
It's not the same.
I can't quite describe it.
It's like a calling.
Something itching in the back of your mind.
It promises you a sort of control,
some form of protection.
It was a bit odd because it hurt.
It made me feel alive.
-It felt good.-
It started small.
I experimented.
I chose tools.
What works, what doesn't.
What heals, what scars.
How to clean, how to sterilize.
-Cleanliness was an irony.-
I didn't turn away.
I relished it.
I made it part of me.
Hatred and anger fueled it.
I embraced it.
Welcomed it like a long lost friend.
-And I cursed it just as badly.-
...
Ellipsis. What a cop out for a line.
You add three dots to pad your spacing.
Empty thoughts. Fillers.
Moving on.
I grew up, I...
"stabilized."
It wasn't instant, though.
No. It faded. Slowly.
Or maybe I have embraced it, properly.
Maybe I let it soak into me,
Like a bread bowl and soup.
-Accepted it like a lost lamb.-
It's there, I'm sure. Waiting.
Patient. Incubating.
-It will never hatch.-
-Or so I say.-
white lines waving and dancing.
Textbook in hand,
and I guess all I can feel is some sort of intrigue.
And sadness. Memories come back.
It's a nostalgic feeling, really.
It's been years since I've felt this particular sadness.
It's not the same sadness as watching your favorite character dies.
It's not the same sadness as when your favorite show ends.
It's not the same.
I can't quite describe it.
It's like a calling.
Something itching in the back of your mind.
It promises you a sort of control,
some form of protection.
It was a bit odd because it hurt.
It made me feel alive.
-It felt good.-
It started small.
I experimented.
I chose tools.
What works, what doesn't.
What heals, what scars.
How to clean, how to sterilize.
-Cleanliness was an irony.-
I didn't turn away.
I relished it.
I made it part of me.
Hatred and anger fueled it.
I embraced it.
Welcomed it like a long lost friend.
-And I cursed it just as badly.-
...
Ellipsis. What a cop out for a line.
You add three dots to pad your spacing.
Empty thoughts. Fillers.
Moving on.
I grew up, I...
"stabilized."
It wasn't instant, though.
No. It faded. Slowly.
Or maybe I have embraced it, properly.
Maybe I let it soak into me,
Like a bread bowl and soup.
-Accepted it like a lost lamb.-
It's there, I'm sure. Waiting.
Patient. Incubating.
-It will never hatch.-
-Or so I say.-
Literature
Rolling
Rolling, frothing sea,
Raging like the storm in my mind.
The waves clap like thunder,
But no one else can feel the storm.
Finally the curtain closes,
The lights come back on,
And a zephyr calms the air.
Literature
coming home
moments no longer
hang
delicately suspended
waiting
instead
deliriously happy
racing the storm
running down a street
thunder and sheets of rain
all around
wind curves around
pushes forcefully forward
leap
storm raging
pulls
up
Literature
aches
my body twitches chest cracks cracks
eyes water wrists rolls shoulders fall in tense up
please is not enough
you will not understand any better than i do
why this place smashes a hole under my ribs every passing day
bars my arms in
and nothing is enough but
leaving
is impossible
Suggested Collections
Reading some of my textbooks and class discussions this semester really hit home with me.
I guess I was just a late bloomer in terms of maturity. Maybe my mindset wasn't in the right place yet. I'm not quite sure.
I wanted to write something though. Freestyle. Why let this chance go by to put something out again when I'm feeling something I haven't felt in a long time? What a waste that'd be.
I guess I was just a late bloomer in terms of maturity. Maybe my mindset wasn't in the right place yet. I'm not quite sure.
I wanted to write something though. Freestyle. Why let this chance go by to put something out again when I'm feeling something I haven't felt in a long time? What a waste that'd be.
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