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Literature Text
mother always told me that there are certain kinds of pain that stick to your insides,
not like a limpet, but more like a bruise they spread and sink into your soft pinks and leave
them both sore to the touch and the sight. she told me to drink it mellow, to let the steam
fade the reds and purples into something less threatening. She told me to sleep it all away.
to crawl underneath the cotton ocean and curl into myself. let it sink into other parts as i
fold myself in half. its less damaging pressed against the creases of my knees that resting
in the spaces between my hearts beats. weakened knees are better than a breaking heart.
not like a limpet, but more like a bruise they spread and sink into your soft pinks and leave
them both sore to the touch and the sight. she told me to drink it mellow, to let the steam
fade the reds and purples into something less threatening. She told me to sleep it all away.
to crawl underneath the cotton ocean and curl into myself. let it sink into other parts as i
fold myself in half. its less damaging pressed against the creases of my knees that resting
in the spaces between my hearts beats. weakened knees are better than a breaking heart.
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sdfghjkl. i need to relearn to ramble into a lovely prose piece.
© 2012 - 2024 ohsparrowsong
Comments3
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"She told me to sleep it all away.
to crawl underneath the cotton ocean and curl into myself."
This was my favorite line.
This was my favorite line.