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Literature Text
Blood
I feel it pooling
Thickness
seeping
Quickly growing cold
Your skin turns blue
Your breath stops
The heart grows still
and mine shatters
Still I hold you
And wipe the blood away
Drowning in my own tears
My heart growing cold
Dying
An empty shell
As you now are
I have lost you
You are gone.
I feel it pooling
Thickness
seeping
Quickly growing cold
Your skin turns blue
Your breath stops
The heart grows still
and mine shatters
Still I hold you
And wipe the blood away
Drowning in my own tears
My heart growing cold
Dying
An empty shell
As you now are
I have lost you
You are gone.
Literature
Is It Wrong?
Is it wrong
That I glance up at the clouds,
Feeling the wind through my hair,
And dream of a mystifying land
Where one can be accepted no matter what?
Is it wrong
That I choose to wear jeans down past my heels,
Baggy and ripped at the knees,
Unlike all the other boys that wear athletic
Shorts, so unscathed and clean?
Is it wrong
That I ask people about their troubles,
Sometimes doing all in my mortal power
To help them surpass the simple,
Even ones I have not defeated myself?
Is it wrong
That while the few friends I have
Dance around giddily and go to
The most extreme only to impress,
But I only hang back in silent content
Literature
SOMETHING
What smoky poltergeist has lit out
across the dusty plains of my mind
and left no footprint?
A contrarian alchemist turning
my gold into lead and taking with it
all my illusions of clarity
Those wizards and sorcerers pushing
their false incantations and last right lies
I sense another curve in my future
Something just up ahead
Literature
Insanity
Rip, rip, rip.
Paper shredded.
A white mess of confetti strewn all over the floor.
I pretend to believe it's snow.
So very cold.
I lead you down the winding halls.
To my being which has become numb.
Heavy weights drag me down.
To the bottom of this pit.
Tick, tick, tick.
The clock ticks slowly.
My pencil against my desk.
Whittling my soul away. Slowly.
Tap, tap, tap.
Anxiously, no, fearfully tapping.
The tapping turns to loud banging.
My head goes down.
The banging becomes ever louder.
I stare at the floor close to tears.
I'm faintly aware of some asking if I'm "okay".
Yes.
I force a smile on my face.
Watch them turn awa
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Protected under the Berne Convention. Do NOT reprint, reuse or redistribute. MINE!
You steal, I impale!!
(c)2011 J Osterhaus
You steal, I impale!!
(c)2011 J Osterhaus
© 2011 - 2024 retrolover
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