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Literature Text
one.
sometimes, when we're driving
along the freeway, i wish
we could just
stop
and sit there, watching
life and cars
pass us by.
-
two.
and if we screamed
our lungs out,
would anyone even
hear us?
-
three.
and then, with scratchy voices
and sore lungs, we could drive
to the edge of a cliff
and wonder if maybe
life is like this cliff,
and sometimes,
you have to just
take a chance and
jump
and you find out later
there's ground, and sometimes
a trampoline
at the bottom,
and suddenly -
suddenly,
you're
flying.
-
four.
or maybe life is
more like a roller coaster, and adrenaline
is rush rush rushing,
and we're terrified and
screaming the whole way,
and it's only when we get off
that we want back on.
sometimes, when we're driving
along the freeway, i wish
we could just
stop
and sit there, watching
life and cars
pass us by.
-
two.
and if we screamed
our lungs out,
would anyone even
hear us?
-
three.
and then, with scratchy voices
and sore lungs, we could drive
to the edge of a cliff
and wonder if maybe
life is like this cliff,
and sometimes,
you have to just
take a chance and
jump
and you find out later
there's ground, and sometimes
a trampoline
at the bottom,
and suddenly -
suddenly,
you're
flying.
-
four.
or maybe life is
more like a roller coaster, and adrenaline
is rush rush rushing,
and we're terrified and
screaming the whole way,
and it's only when we get off
that we want back on.
Literature
we're just cracks in the road
Sometimes, your skin gleams silver and sometimes, I'm four years old again scribbling my name across your chest in sidewalk chalk. Since sometimes, I pretend that you're made from concrete since then we seem a little more permanent and I don't have to worry about my painted heart washing away from your surface. But sometimes, I'm blind. Since these days, I'm stuck tracing the veins that dart through your arms which remind me that you're temporary. And then they remind me of cracks in the cement and other things we can't fix. And then I remember maybe, I can't even fix you.
Sometimes I plaster makeup on my face trying to hide that childlike m
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
this april
The moonlight falls through squinting blinds, bowing softly to hug the arc of his naked body. The blankets are strewn about his toes as a girl, no more than sixteen, lays wide-eyed and warm-bodied beside him.
She silently watches the dreams come and go beneath his eyelids, she quietly feels his chest rise, rise then fall and she listens to the heavy breathing that accompanies it. Beautiful breathing, she thinks, tracing generous lips with fingertips.
The air is cool but she is alight.
Everything in this room bathes in blue shade. She watches the alarm clock beside the bed, numbers coming and going out of fashion before her eyes.
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© 2009 - 2024 Amertie
Comments112
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take a chance and
jump
and you find out later
there's ground, and sometimes
a trampoline
at the bottom,
and suddenly -
suddenly,
you're
flying.
these words were in my head a week after I read this, and so I had to comeback and say,
i love it.
jump
and you find out later
there's ground, and sometimes
a trampoline
at the bottom,
and suddenly -
suddenly,
you're
flying.
these words were in my head a week after I read this, and so I had to comeback and say,
i love it.