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Literature Text
Forever doesn't exist,
at least it's never been proven to me.
And "Til death do us part,"
is just a line in a nursery rhyme,
known only to mice, and no [wo]men,
just another story, repeated again and again.
I'm a temporary cause
of no concern to you;
no great expectations here,
just a subject as your muse,
and these trust issues are clues.
I should have consulted with the best;
elementary reasons abound,
explain my cause for unrest.
So away with the wind,
I'll be gone, sans pride,
before you sense
the prejudice sensibility
to leave me again.
--
11/10/2011
at least it's never been proven to me.
And "Til death do us part,"
is just a line in a nursery rhyme,
known only to mice, and no [wo]men,
just another story, repeated again and again.
I'm a temporary cause
of no concern to you;
no great expectations here,
just a subject as your muse,
and these trust issues are clues.
I should have consulted with the best;
elementary reasons abound,
explain my cause for unrest.
So away with the wind,
I'll be gone, sans pride,
before you sense
the prejudice sensibility
to leave me again.
--
11/10/2011
Literature
Goodbye
i didn’t fall in love with you
until your skin was already grey and i
had to tell you what the weather was like
since you couldn’t leave your bed.
i didn’t mind long nights in the hospital
because making you laugh brought a warmth
to my cheeks that burnt hotter than a
forest fire, you never laughed at me for blushing
i snuck you in alcohol and forbidden foods
and pushed you around in that rusted wheel chair,
and all the nurses looked at us with
miserable eyes that said more than the doctors
would ever tell me.
naively i thought it was good news
when you said they were sending you home; but
when i saw you strewn across
Literature
a situation in which i do not survive
i was a lake whipped
into a fever pitch, a localised
hurricane in the wake of something
greater. the world was ending
and i dreamt of you while it was
still turning, a mess of bodies and
kisses. i dreamt of you still
when it ended, a slow dance
of crooked smiles and offshore
eyes. you kept me close and if
i was ever a source of happiness
or preoccupation
or horror
for you, i could let go.
Literature
Everything You Borrowed
On Sunday afternoon,
after exiting the church,
you plucked the sun from the sky
and hid it in your palms
so that when I held your hands
they would no longer be cold.
When Monday night arrived
you snatched every single star
and used my tears to make
a necklace.
Tuesday's empty dawn shone
through the cracks of the door--
you stole the promise of what
could never be
and draped it around my shoulders.
After Wednesday's twilight passed,
you grabbed the clouds
and wove a tapestry of lies
that I hung on the walls
of my prison.
Thursday crept through us
on silent tiptoes,
waiting for us to take notice--
instead, we merely waited
for midnight to
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I honestly don't know how worthy this is of posting. The ending especially may need some work. But it is what it is...and what it is, is this:
I wrote about this trust and abandonment thing some people seem to have.
I wrote about this trust and abandonment thing some people seem to have.
© 2011 - 2024 BeyondJen
Comments12
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I am glad you posted it Jen.
Simple, honest and beautifully powerful.
Simple, honest and beautifully powerful.