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Literature Text
this feeling is too big for me.
too giant for my small frame to contain
and its spreading and spilling out and
over my insides and leaving me waking
up with bruises from dreams so real
they hurt.
this feeling is too much for me.
i can't carry it all, it leave part of it
dragging alongthe ground behind
me and i tend to forget its there
and i trip over it and fall to ground.
i decided to collect bruises
but i dont have to look to far
they tend to seek me out
and scatter themselves across my skin.
too giant for my small frame to contain
and its spreading and spilling out and
over my insides and leaving me waking
up with bruises from dreams so real
they hurt.
this feeling is too much for me.
i can't carry it all, it leave part of it
dragging alongthe ground behind
me and i tend to forget its there
and i trip over it and fall to ground.
i decided to collect bruises
but i dont have to look to far
they tend to seek me out
and scatter themselves across my skin.
Literature
weak bones and sleep-starved eyes
he made wishes on gunshots
and sent out empty prayers to an empty sky
and sometimes, while he slept
[a vicious, taunting, halfway-sort-of-not-really-asleep-at-all sleep]
his fists would clutch at air,
and his swollen strawberry lips would twist and
turn
and his too-young, too-pale face would
grimace and scrunch
and when he cried out,
the babies in the next room would start crying too.
eventually the shadows under his eyes got
so big
that they swallowed him up
and his arms got scarred and broken from all the times
he'd checked to see if his heart was still beating
and he stopped having nightmares because he
stopped chasing sl
Literature
hollow bones
when i was three, i already knew that birds had hollow bones. i already knew that their wings were fragile like paper kites, and that when i held them in my clumsy fingers they would snap with a heartbreaking sound. i knew i would cry when i heard those bones break, and i'd whisper sorry over and over again to the bird and try to hold it closer, even though it was frantically flapping its good wing trying to get away from me and did not understand me in the least.
then, i did not know how very much like birds people were. i kept my eyes low, my dreams to the possible, and my heart deep inside my chest, deeper than my lungs would know where t
Literature
Arise and Breathe
little siren girl, held up by fishhooks
and lines - you'll only be free when
they cut you loose.
still, they tell you: you will not fall
victim to swelling tides, you
will float. (you are a dead weight.)
you are something incomplete
like the forgotten house on the
end of the row, eating itself,
dimming day by day:
paint chips and chapped lips
have nothing left to say.
there are monsters nursing
deep beneath your flesh, with
threadbare spines and trembling
hands, they are afraid of their own
shadows. (you are only weak when
your eyes are open)
a new year waits upon your doorstep,
promising to take all that was ever [you]
Suggested Collections
old words
same feeling.
same feeling.
© 2013 - 2024 ohsparrowsong
Comments6
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I like the honesty of this.
they tend to seek me out
and scatter themselves across my skin
--painful but lovely.
they tend to seek me out
and scatter themselves across my skin
--painful but lovely.