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Literature Text
Hello there again, my old friend
I didn't invite you, nor I ever do
How long will you stay?
Or will you ever go away?
Have you been here all along?
I thought you were gone,
Will you prove me wrong?
As long as you're here,
Don't come in too near
Keep a safe distance,
Don't consume
Find your own place
At the edge of the room
At least when I'm all alone,
I know I can find you at my home
Always by my side,
Willing to be my guide
Like an unsound ghost,
Providing company when I need it most
But I wish you would let me be,
And give back my eyes to see
I'm falling when with you,
How do I know what's true?
Perhaps I gave you an invitation,
And it wasn't just your manipulation
But never would I ask for such an intrusion,
That brings nothing more than empty seclusion
No matter how far I push you away,
I fear with me you will always stay
Whenever I think it's going to end,
There you are again, my old friend
I didn't invite you, nor I ever do
How long will you stay?
Or will you ever go away?
Have you been here all along?
I thought you were gone,
Will you prove me wrong?
As long as you're here,
Don't come in too near
Keep a safe distance,
Don't consume
Find your own place
At the edge of the room
At least when I'm all alone,
I know I can find you at my home
Always by my side,
Willing to be my guide
Like an unsound ghost,
Providing company when I need it most
But I wish you would let me be,
And give back my eyes to see
I'm falling when with you,
How do I know what's true?
Perhaps I gave you an invitation,
And it wasn't just your manipulation
But never would I ask for such an intrusion,
That brings nothing more than empty seclusion
No matter how far I push you away,
I fear with me you will always stay
Whenever I think it's going to end,
There you are again, my old friend
Literature
A Letter to No One
The clock ticked against silence,
Upon the cemetery of a room.
Deep sighs weave through the air,
Meager warmth in compressed despair.
Moths fall prey to a musty lampshade,
An opened window to Night’s gloom.
Thoughts dance like ripples on water,
And clouds on the hiding moon.
A lullaby plays from the gentle sound,
Made by scratching pen on paper.
One story told too many times,
Is voiced from words created.
Though this time revived from lies,
A phoenix forms the ugly truth.
The pen rolls from the wooden desk,
Having served its final use.
Old dusty dolls and teddy bears,
Watched helplessly through glassy eyes.
No star showed to twinkl
Literature
we should celebrate
i.
i tried to think of pain as a flower,
first it blossoms
and then
it wilts away.
but i won't let myself disappear
along with it,
i won't
give you that.
(it's not the agony that makes
me scream, it's the flavor).
ii.
and you whispered softly
"i'll rip your heart out and replace it
with a song,
it's christmas soon, and
we should celebrate".
you've always used my scars
as a calendar,
as a way to remind yourself
"today is tuesday
and i still exist".
iii.
(it's morning now because
i can see
the sunlight
through my eyelids
and imagine
Literature
Missing Pieces.
I am a missing piece. Something that someone needs.
But at the same time, I feel so incomplete.
I’ve wandered way too far, wondered for far too long
Am I a missing piece? Or a piece that won’t belong?
Is it possible I’m damaged and not missing at all?
That I’m just as dysfunctional as everybody else?
Pretending to be perfect never softened a single fall.
But neither did admitting that you’re broken and flawed.
A broken missing piece. Is that all I’m meant to be?
There is no master plan that includes the likes of me.
Being all alone, it’s a hurt that will not cease.
A hundred thousand years from now
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Comments22
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This is good.
It describes a complex relationship of someone who you don't see much, but will still be there. It keeps you thinking.
Good Poem.
It describes a complex relationship of someone who you don't see much, but will still be there. It keeps you thinking.
Good Poem.