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Literature Text
her heart is a hollow shell
fragile, light, and empty
though it isn't heavy
it's not easy to carry
with no love to keep her grounded
her fingers brush the grass as she's pulled off Earth
through the clouds
through space
she sits truly alone
a hollow heart
in an endless void
the thin shell begins to fracture
fragile, light, and empty
though it isn't heavy
it's not easy to carry
with no love to keep her grounded
her fingers brush the grass as she's pulled off Earth
through the clouds
through space
she sits truly alone
a hollow heart
in an endless void
the thin shell begins to fracture
Literature
Sorrowbird
I watched him flap helplessly between the teeth of a barbwire fence, screeching for help.
"Papa, look Papa! A boy!"
My papa stood dazed for a moment, dust billowing at his legs, his eyes teetering along the field. It wasn't until later that evening he told me he hadn't understood what I had seen. What he had seen.
With grass tickling the backsides of my legs, I bounded toward the boy, "What are you doing? Are you okay?"
As I approached him, I felt his skittish eyes rake across my every movement. With his ten-year-old arms slung inside the gaping maw of a fence and darkened feathers pasted along the creases of his face; he looked squarely
Literature
how to become a writer
have parents that separate
when you’re in high school;
a father filled with unused anger
and a mother too busy to care.
pretend it doesn’t hurt.
let your friends treat you
like dirt;
after all,
everything is your fault.
listen to their problems with a fake smile
all the while crying out because
everything hurts and no one can see.
press a knife to your skin,
but be too cowardly to
draw your own blood.
fall in love with people
who could never notice you,
because you’re
just. not. good.
enough.
chew on the multicolored
strands of your hair.
(you can’t stop runni
Literature
I am not summer personified
Do not compare me to a summers day,
I'm an autumn baby, with fallen leaves,
Printed in gold and amber across my skin,
With the deepest red sunset lips,
Offset by snowy skin.
I am the crisp breath of wind,
On oxygen starved lungs.
Forget the call of the heat,
And fall into my mist embrace.
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Comments8
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Powerful and deeply felt!
Good word weaving.
Good word weaving.