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Literature Text
tonight i realized
that i'm not
in love with you;
i'm in love with the times
you were there for.
(and now you're gone.)
that i'm not
in love with you;
i'm in love with the times
you were there for.
(and now you're gone.)
Literature
no wonder it took him 1455 pages
when i was seven years old, a group of kids in my grade threw rocks at me for liking neopets more than webkinz. from then on, i was convinced i knew what hatred meant. but i don’t know how to describe it to the little girl who sits in the corner of my womb and in ten years might call me mommy and ask for help on dividing the world into black and white.
would i point to the churches with their bigotry? to the cotton fields of the south in the 1800s? to the classrooms of modern day america? would i tell her about how the jews stood in straight lines, waiting to die, with fear in their eyes and faith in their hearts? or would i try and de
Literature
Shadows of Whales
What I wanted to say was that I remembered the clouds,
that I watched them paint shadows across the ground,
giant birds of prey gliding across the aether - whales,
lost in a different sea, to float
white and pregnant
with all the sounds of things; thundering out
threats of the sky, sounds full of fury
and the disease that catches you off guard
"Open your door. I must come in."
what I wanted to say was that the echoes are the same
that the pulses of sound are just pieces of the original
instead of slightly dimmer copies
every one a herald
of the silence, soon to come.
I wanted to say things that, maybe, you'd listen to -
that sort of alab
Literature
Hubris.
today
we're younger
than we're ever gonna
be.
i. and we finally did it,
drove to the mountains
watched meteors
and let the mattress
grow damp
under our love
under the stars
ii. there are things to
be reconciled
iii. my eyes sting like
chlorine, but from
crying,
I finally disappointed
them;
the highest order of shame
iv. but you cannot put
people into pockets;
good, bad
don't mix
with them
v. and I cannot choose
who I love
vi. your lenses are straight,
elite and proud
mine, open and accumulating
filth
vii. maybe
I should run away more often,
we never talk like this
viii. and you have to realise
that I live in
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I believe I've said it before, but here it is again: I envy your brilliance.