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Literature Text
one.
if i could move
right nextdoor
to you.
i think all my dreams would
be fulfilled.
two.
hold a star in my hand
and watch the starshine
[leak] out from
between my fingers.
three.
words inked
across my skin so
that i may read
my favorite books
[anywhere i wish]
four.
letters, addressed by hand
stamps, from places across
the sea, where stories
originate. letters, written in pen,
while sipping
iced tea in street corner cafes.
five.
a day when i can
do whatever i would like.
six.
darling,
for you i would do
anything.
for you i would
climb into the stars.
[ <3 ]
seven.
her little hand in mine,
with starry eyes
looking into mine.
my flesh and blood and bone,
happier than i
will ever be.
eight.
world peace
[an end to this relentless cycle
of fighting and dying and winning
and losing.
history is written by the winners
after all.
so who knows that is real?]
nine.
a [magical]
first kiss.
ten.
my very own happy
end.
if i could move
right nextdoor
to you.
i think all my dreams would
be fulfilled.
two.
hold a star in my hand
and watch the starshine
[leak] out from
between my fingers.
three.
words inked
across my skin so
that i may read
my favorite books
[anywhere i wish]
four.
letters, addressed by hand
stamps, from places across
the sea, where stories
originate. letters, written in pen,
while sipping
iced tea in street corner cafes.
five.
a day when i can
do whatever i would like.
six.
darling,
for you i would do
anything.
for you i would
climb into the stars.
[ <3 ]
seven.
her little hand in mine,
with starry eyes
looking into mine.
my flesh and blood and bone,
happier than i
will ever be.
eight.
world peace
[an end to this relentless cycle
of fighting and dying and winning
and losing.
history is written by the winners
after all.
so who knows that is real?]
nine.
a [magical]
first kiss.
ten.
my very own happy
end.
Literature
Thorns
I see you at first glace
Immediately captivated by your beauty
Your stem so strong and tall with pride
Your petals full of color and shape
I am a bud not yet blossomed
As I grow toward you
My stem embracing yours
I finally realize, you're covered in thorns
Literature
Thoughts
I'm so sick of not being perfect
I'm sick of hurting people
I'm tired of doing nothing right
I'm tired of holding back
Let me scream
Let me lash out
Let me show you the other side of me
And try telling me you still know me
Everything confined inside
It builds until I almost burst
My eyes grow heavy
My fingers claw at my arms
Tear out my hair
Twitch for the blade
I hold back
But I can only hold so much
Then I do it again
I screw up
I hurt
I break
And I fall again
Self-loathing is almost a comfort
I often wonder why
Why am I this way
Why am I messed up
Answers won't be found
I'm sick of hating myself
I'm sick of hidin
Literature
Missing Pieces.
I am a missing piece. Something that someone needs.
But at the same time, I feel so incomplete.
I’ve wandered way too far, wondered for far too long
Am I a missing piece? Or a piece that won’t belong?
Is it possible I’m damaged and not missing at all?
That I’m just as dysfunctional as everybody else?
Pretending to be perfect never softened a single fall.
But neither did admitting that you’re broken and flawed.
A broken missing piece. Is that all I’m meant to be?
There is no master plan that includes the likes of me.
Being all alone, it’s a hurt that will not cease.
A hundred thousand years from now
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wrote this a while ago and rediscovered it.
(today, i wished on a wishbone with my father,
for the ability to throw off this depression.
i lost. i guess i have to do this alone, after all.)
(today, i wished on a wishbone with my father,
for the ability to throw off this depression.
i lost. i guess i have to do this alone, after all.)
© 2012 - 2024 Jadite
Comments11
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Everything you write gives me the shivers. I especially love parts two, four, and seven. <3 And if you ever need to talk, I'm here