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Literature Text
there's this canyon between us.
it's pretty wide
and I'm not sure
if I've got the right tools on hand
for crossing.
I've got a coil of black rope,
a small boat,
and a flame.
I'd throw the rope,
that is,
if it had the grapple hook
for clawing into rocks.
A boat cannot sail across
a canyon made of air
and so I'd have to pray
for the rain of a thousand storms
to bring a flood
that would have carried Noah
past the emerald city
and right back home to Kansas.
I don't know
that what we had
is worth the trouble.
Maybe it's best to just light this flame
and wait for night to fall.
If you saw it shining
would that be enough to let you know
that I still care
even from across this great expanse?
it's pretty wide
and I'm not sure
if I've got the right tools on hand
for crossing.
I've got a coil of black rope,
a small boat,
and a flame.
I'd throw the rope,
that is,
if it had the grapple hook
for clawing into rocks.
A boat cannot sail across
a canyon made of air
and so I'd have to pray
for the rain of a thousand storms
to bring a flood
that would have carried Noah
past the emerald city
and right back home to Kansas.
I don't know
that what we had
is worth the trouble.
Maybe it's best to just light this flame
and wait for night to fall.
If you saw it shining
would that be enough to let you know
that I still care
even from across this great expanse?
Literature
Coddled
don't step on the eggshells
don't look through the gaps
don't ask me what happened
just fill in the cracks
this happens like clockwork
don't worry
please wake me up gently
don't leave me alone
I'm cold and it's dark out
and you're not at home
like clockwork, I need you
please hurry
Literature
Tragedy
I’m the girl in the books that is a mystery. A tragic heroin that gives the main character a new perspective.
Quiet girl, riot girl. A rebel, a tragedy.
I’m the wild ride, the adventure, the challenge. I’m the girl he wants to know all about until he goes too far and I’m no longer real.
I’m the manic depressive pixie dream girl with a tragic end.
I’m not his type but he goes after me anyway because my wild eyes, wild hair, wild life, wild thoughts.
Oh look, I’ve got an attitude. Screaming at the world, fuck the system, tongue as sharp as a knife attitude. Middle fingers, swearing at everyone, bit
Literature
Thumbtack
This is a broken world.
The thought cannot be broken.
There will be no enjambment,
no:
"This is a
broken world."
It doesn't work that way.
The thought is whole.
There can be no splicing to
make it go down easier.
It shouldn't go down easy;
it should be a thumbtack in your throat
screaming out its presence.
Don't forget to swallow.
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Something a wrote a few months ago.
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