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Literature Text
She longed to run her fingers,
Along the old acoustic,
Cradled in his too long bones,
That twitched in time to the
Delicate harmonies, and notes,
That twisted around her head.
The way his fingertips
Plucked at the coils of metal,
Inter weaved into his subconscious,
Mystified and intrigued her,
His converse tapping at concrete,
out of time with hers.
They sat on the limestone wall,
Barely touching, contemplating
The endless fall,
And talking about all the maybe's
What if's and after-all's.
She crossed the line, in late may,
And he forgot to turn away-
And a little later, entwined,
Between trees and in dappled shade,
They laid, side by side,
And cast a glance,
To the world they left behind.
- The lies, the tears, the fights, and the harsh words,
Were replaced, with sun, kisses, and fragile fingertips.
Literature
Igbok
To the girl who's "okay"
With the run-away father
Of the baby she's hiding
With goodwill and shame,
You're not alone.
To the boy who's "okay"
With the bumps and the names
And the scars on his wrist
That still won't go away,
You're not alone.
To the girl who's "okay"
With despising herself
Because she's knows she's not strong enough
To starve anymore,
You're not alone.
To the boy who's "okay"
As the voices grow louder
Because soon he'll give in to them
Without feeli
Literature
Depression
This feeling, it pollutes my very core
Leaving it rotted and tearing apart piece after piece.
It is a black thing, corrupting everything it brushes against
Leaving me in a will drained state.
Depression; a tired rage or sadness
No one has come to understand.
A flash of pain follows every thought of family and friends,
Leaving me with my head in my hands begging for an end.
I have not a single word, not a flick of my tongue;
That can even come close to describing how I feel.
My whole body feels like it is cracking into pieces
Planning to leave me as nothing more than a face smiling in a frame.
I’ve turned all that I loved against m
Literature
Blinded
We are a world without vision,
Fumbling in the dark
Without direction.
Coming across one-eyed men
Who lead us to a bitter end.
Harsh and cruel.
Those who can see
Blind themselves with tears
Which come with the truth.
And misery.
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And all I ever wished for,
Was a route back to where
We used to lie.
Was a route back to where
We used to lie.
© 2012 - 2024 blood-red-ribbons
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