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Literature Text
The
quiet
you're in every sound
that is never heard.
I.
whispered.
you didn't ever make a single sound
and while I used to sing out loud,
when I proclaimed on top of mountains
that I was yours and you were mine
and the world was ours to have
we were in love, real, true, everlasting
love.
you would only shush me
and whisper softly that things were ok.
quiet is the way you loved me.
I screamed in your ears while you slept
that you were hurting me, silently bruising me
I grieved over your still alive body.
I don't have a single scar to show you in the morning and your ears didn't even buzz or bleed.
and when you left
I cried out for you to hold me, touch me, love me!
and you put a single finger to your lips.
and when I went silent for only you, love,
you forgot about me...
quiet
you're in every sound
that is never heard.
I.
whispered.
you didn't ever make a single sound
and while I used to sing out loud,
when I proclaimed on top of mountains
that I was yours and you were mine
and the world was ours to have
we were in love, real, true, everlasting
love.
you would only shush me
and whisper softly that things were ok.
quiet is the way you loved me.
I screamed in your ears while you slept
that you were hurting me, silently bruising me
I grieved over your still alive body.
I don't have a single scar to show you in the morning and your ears didn't even buzz or bleed.
and when you left
I cried out for you to hold me, touch me, love me!
and you put a single finger to your lips.
and when I went silent for only you, love,
you forgot about me...
Literature
A-Little-Bit
I'm feeling a little bit
Seven-months-gone
And a little bit
Dying-without-you
And I don't want to be alone anymore.
I'm feeling a little bit
I-miss-you.
And I'm tired.
Literature
timid.
she grew up laced in a dreamlike state. her mother would tell her fairy-tales, and she would sit there, wide eyed and listening to everything her mother had to say with the utmost interest. she was told about a girl, who lived in a tall tower, awaiting a prince to come and save her, and another who was asleep and someone handsome kisses her and she's whooshed back to the real world and all lives happily ever after. she was always told that the pretty girl finds love, and banishes the lesser ones, and the evil ones.
when she was nine, she first learned about forest creatures, and how they are gentle to some strangers. deer can become fond of
Literature
the beautiful edge of ugly -co
"you know, we are made of ugly things."
"yes, but have you not heard? ugly is the new beautiful. like the way you always seem to pry at my thoughts and know what i'm thinking; the way you make me talk when i really don't feel like parting my lips and lying to you. it's just like the cyanide and razor blades i keep in my medicine cabinet, waiting for the day when i master the definition of defeat."
"then we are the most beautiful thing in the world, because we are spending our days chewing on gunpowder and wilted roses. i spent ten minutes this morning carving your name on the inside of my thigh; somehow, replicating that pain makes me think
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Honestly, I don't know where I came up with this or who or what inspired it. It just came. which, I suppose, is good.
I edited it! tada!
I edited it! tada!
Comments38
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wow gorgeous writing