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Literature Text
open open oh-
pen up your thoughts, your reasons
do not want freedom
pen up your thoughts, your reasons
do not want freedom
Literature
Music of the soul
Now a day's in my every waking hour
A sweet melody enters my ears.
I try to block it, but the song always
Finds a way in. I see my friends now
Skipping and dancing down the road.
I feel off somehow, like I'm supposed to be with
Them. The others tell me they're going to a Land of Eternal Dreams
led by the weaver of their fantasies . I decide to follow,
giving in to the sounds of sweet serenity.
I got to see the Pied Piper of Hamelin once again.
Literature
quarter past midnight
The nascence of fall whispers
Quietly behind my ears -
The ripple of a full golden moon
Over thick, inky waves.
The last storm of summer left
Gaping darkness in the glass city,
Contorted boughs etched against
A disconcertingly wide sky.
Months of transition.
Anesthesia.
The knowledge that one day
That there will be one
Empty bed in the house
(please have mercy
please).
Drowning out the fear in soundwaves late at night.
Tearing lives apart with my bare hands
(Blood swirling open like petals;
I'm so sorry).
Crippling self hate and doubt.
Running from the ones I should love
(the southern stars offer consolation; outside,
the milky way arc
Literature
solitude
i am
trying to pull myself away
from this feeling
that consumes me inside
your absence is in
every object that surrounds me,
entangling loneliness
in the air
its all i can feel.
the time rolls onwards,
and onwards,
dragging me along
as i wait, as i wonder.
(i just want you to
come back.)
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Comments2
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This feels like my brain some days. Great work! 