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Literature Text
you were my eternal bad feeling.
that lingering kick in my gut, from not knowing what stupid or self destructive thing you would be doing today.
you drank too much, and i tired to pry too many bottles out of your hands in the time i loved you.
not to say i dont still love you, but its different now. its a habit, or just the leftovers of the real thing. somewhere it got too much, the nights got too long, and i was fighting you more than i was fighting for you. the odds were stacking up against us, and i knew i had to get out of there before they buried us.
so i let them bury you.
that lingering kick in my gut, from not knowing what stupid or self destructive thing you would be doing today.
you drank too much, and i tired to pry too many bottles out of your hands in the time i loved you.
not to say i dont still love you, but its different now. its a habit, or just the leftovers of the real thing. somewhere it got too much, the nights got too long, and i was fighting you more than i was fighting for you. the odds were stacking up against us, and i knew i had to get out of there before they buried us.
so i let them bury you.
Literature
On Wanting Everything to Be Right
You got too comfortable,
forgot he could make mistakes,
and set your consciousness aside
so he could mend the thoughts
which have remained disordered
in your fumbling sobriety,
despite the years of learning to cope
with the pace of regularity:
scraping the mailbox with his key,
dining out every Sunday,
setting the thermostat to sixty degrees,
and changing despite every effort
to remain apathetic about his plans,
how your name became a constant
in his living equations,
the variable which defined the function.
On the morning you leave,
only your luggage and body will move
through the summer shadows
of oak leaves shaking in a breeze,
and on
Literature
Unavoided
I used to know a girl for
the hunger in her voice;
she spoke of something
more, worth
anchoring herself to
and sinking down
with
"I think
I'll drink away my memory, soon,
or pray for an Alzheimer-inspired
beginning, because
I can't keep waking up
on the wrong side of life"
Literature
it's not enough
she held her breath and jumped from the clifftop.
one.
two.
three.
the shockwave of her body slapping against the surface told her, breathe, breathe.
but she refused.
the waves smacked her upside the head. breathe, breathe.
but she refused.
her lover pounded against her chest. breathe, breathe.
she refused.
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you're sane now.
at least as far as i can tell in 117 characters or less.
at least as far as i can tell in 117 characters or less.
© 2013 - 2024 ohsparrowsong
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