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Literature Text
i will pretend
i do not fall asleep
thinking of you
if you pretend
not to know.
x
i wish i knew
how to tell you
exactly how i feel about
you.
it's like
you're a black hole
and you pull me in
and all i can do
is try not to lose myself
completely.
x
dear self:
please do not confuse
falling
for him with
flying.
x
we are not a
rollercoaster, so please
stop saying this relationship
is one.
[haven't you heard that
rollercoasters have ups
as well as
downs?]
x
x marks the spot,
sweetheart;
this is a map,
and if you follow it
you'll find my heart.
[except,
you don't really care
enough to look.]
i do not fall asleep
thinking of you
if you pretend
not to know.
x
i wish i knew
how to tell you
exactly how i feel about
you.
it's like
you're a black hole
and you pull me in
and all i can do
is try not to lose myself
completely.
x
dear self:
please do not confuse
falling
for him with
flying.
x
we are not a
rollercoaster, so please
stop saying this relationship
is one.
[haven't you heard that
rollercoasters have ups
as well as
downs?]
x
x marks the spot,
sweetheart;
this is a map,
and if you follow it
you'll find my heart.
[except,
you don't really care
enough to look.]
Literature
opposite's day - collab.
i. today i ignored the dismal beating
in my chest [it held me closer than
you ever did] and chased after you
like a lopsided puppy,
watching your skylit legs sink into
shin-deep puddles with indefinable
bottoms. i looked as you left me
miles behind as i shouted
nonsensical wishes and
honeycombed thoughts to you.
[let's drop anchor and stop
this off-course ship with
a handful of windswept lies.]
ii. your eyes are like my mirror -
reflective, deflective, and unforgiving.
[the only way you'll speak to me
is without words.]
one of these days i will write
'ugly ugly ugly' on my forehead
so that on opposite's day,
those baby blu
Literature
a letter
dearest dear,
there is a butterfly breathing its way out of you. there is a red & blinking button pressed to bear releasing. I am ever so sorry, but still collecting your colors. In the midst of apologies, still pressing your fragile frame to pages; special focus on forever. tomorrow, I will visit you inside your house. shortly thereafter, I will hide underneath your bed; making a nest of your blankets. the following morning, I will infiltrate breakfast disguised as a warm sip of tea.
that will become my favorite section, in retrospect. the part when you learned to call me "honey", honey. the part where I whispered and tickled your chin.
I
Literature
whimsical things
she can't sleep at night, so instead she watches the stars from her bed and writes poetry in the folds of her mind. she watches the sky change colour from darkest purple to a light blue and watches as the stars dissapear one by one. she feels redundant, watching the sunrise.
-
we're sitting on her bedroom floor and she's got a spoon and a lighter, a syringe and a lack of something to keep her happy. sometimes i think, when we're here, that she should write her poetry down. that she could escape some things. i never tell her out loud though; we just shoot heroin and fuck with the stars. we shoot heroin and fuck with ourselves until everythin
Suggested Collections
if life's a road,
then there's roadsigns, too.
[but with my eyesight,
i can't see them.]
then there's roadsigns, too.
[but with my eyesight,
i can't see them.]
© 2008 - 2024 Amertie
Comments209
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1.Get glasses.
2. Flying is just falling in reverse.
2. Flying is just falling in reverse.