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Literature Text
There are more dreams
in sea shores
than in sidewalks
these days.
My t-shirt wrinkles
under the sun,
a squeezed lemon
trying too hard to be sewn
with water.
I have 10,000 steps
for every day.
Took fifteen up the stairs
and five-hundred in the city.
I think I have enough left
for the star into
neverland.
Too much hangs
in the crannies
of a pinky promise.
It’s better to count sheep
with paper planes.
I wonder what it would be like
to fall for a millennia;
bouncing from orbs
and pretending to be
away?
My spine is a genie
with origami.
Hiding the holes
with more and more
folds.
in sea shores
than in sidewalks
these days.
My t-shirt wrinkles
under the sun,
a squeezed lemon
trying too hard to be sewn
with water.
I have 10,000 steps
for every day.
Took fifteen up the stairs
and five-hundred in the city.
I think I have enough left
for the star into
neverland.
Too much hangs
in the crannies
of a pinky promise.
It’s better to count sheep
with paper planes.
I wonder what it would be like
to fall for a millennia;
bouncing from orbs
and pretending to be
away?
My spine is a genie
with origami.
Hiding the holes
with more and more
folds.
Literature
cycle.
(birth.)
i walk home, crisp shoelaces, bloodied nose
middle of autumn, frothing at the mouth
kids took summer skin too far, brought on apocalypse
i tell myself it will be over soon, wintertime freckles
will be here
incensed
(childhood.)
stove milk and delicate murmurs
the technicolor alphabet teaches itself
purple bowls with animal faces
hospital bracelets around tiny wrists
won’t come loose
mama
(adolescence.)
the clouds are gasoline, wisps of gin, addicted
there is vomit on the floor, new candy sores
sky is burning, orange with hungry flame, vying
i don’t know who to talk to, crying
let me go
alive
(adulthood.)
doctor
Literature
Memories
We have all the time in the world...
Except not really, do we?
We have less than a year
Less than a breath
Less than a thought
And I've been doing a lot of thinking:
Thinking about the future
(which makes my stomach hurt)
Thinking about the present
(which makes my stomach hurt)
Thinking about you
(which makes my stomach--)
Thinking enough to be considered dangerous
Because historically, thoughts and ideas are dangerous
Thoughts lead to ideas lead to words lead to change
And I don't want things to change...
...except that's a lie.
I want things to change.
I want this...this thing
This intangible feeling
This tangible energy
I want it all to
Literature
the daughter universe
Lonely men, I’ve noticed, will pay off their little houses
and live in them by themselves until they burn down
from a dead gas pilot and 80’s paperback philosophy.
In other words, out on one hundred highway north at dusk,
which is a daylight’s ride from the sack, the dunes simply
spill out on the road; the crazy thing being, nobody’s worried.
Keep driving until the damn thing just ends at the last rogue pier
on the island’s tip. There’s a dark night beach on the right
and if you wade into the waves, about 130 feet, east by northeast,
you’ll find a miraculous shoal where the salt from a trillion g
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Comments1
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I am a little in love with your first stanza here, and the third one is also entirely fantastic. <33 Well done. c: