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Literature Text
i. I fell in love with a girl who catalogued darkness,
sat in her room with the blinds closed and wrote down
187 ways it felt
in all of the different times she couldn't see.
My name was one of them,
#143, ash velvet, and I didn't know what she meant at the time
but the only description she wrote beneath it
was good night for stuffed animals
bad night for worn pillows.
And I'm sorry I made you dream of the rivers.
ii. I fell in love with a girl who never looked in the mirror
but dressed to perfection, somehow
in her blue skirt and black socks
white tennis shoes
and a smile crooked as the bottom side of Indiana –
yeah, I fell in love with a girl
who could never quite get it straight – but hey,
that's alright,
I've never been 100% straight either,
and the one corkscrew curl you have
opens me up like fine wine
each time I see you smile in that cracked bathroom mirror.
Makes me half-drunk,
near-giddy.
iii. I fell in love with a girl who was depressed by Paris,
but loved Italy because she had no expectations,
who came into every relationship with no expectations,
so the only one she could ever be disappointed in
was herself.
And Harry Potter. That girl was
mad-crazy for Harry Potter.
iv. This girl has a name. And I'm not gonna tell it to you
cause you can read it on the chest, scrawled out here
on my tag - my chickenscratch handwriting.
My goddamn beautiful Indiana smile.
sat in her room with the blinds closed and wrote down
187 ways it felt
in all of the different times she couldn't see.
My name was one of them,
#143, ash velvet, and I didn't know what she meant at the time
but the only description she wrote beneath it
was good night for stuffed animals
bad night for worn pillows.
And I'm sorry I made you dream of the rivers.
ii. I fell in love with a girl who never looked in the mirror
but dressed to perfection, somehow
in her blue skirt and black socks
white tennis shoes
and a smile crooked as the bottom side of Indiana –
yeah, I fell in love with a girl
who could never quite get it straight – but hey,
that's alright,
I've never been 100% straight either,
and the one corkscrew curl you have
opens me up like fine wine
each time I see you smile in that cracked bathroom mirror.
Makes me half-drunk,
near-giddy.
iii. I fell in love with a girl who was depressed by Paris,
but loved Italy because she had no expectations,
who came into every relationship with no expectations,
so the only one she could ever be disappointed in
was herself.
And Harry Potter. That girl was
mad-crazy for Harry Potter.
iv. This girl has a name. And I'm not gonna tell it to you
cause you can read it on the chest, scrawled out here
on my tag - my chickenscratch handwriting.
My goddamn beautiful Indiana smile.
Literature
let's pretend this never happened
because honestly,
i don't know you and this was
just a big mistake, she says
very softly.
the morning sun peeks in
through the curtain as she pulls
on yesterday's shirt and i catch
my last glimpse of her thin
shoulder blades, protruding like
wings about to burst out of their
seams. she won't look at me.
the floor creaks with her weight
as she gathers her things. i've
already forgotten her eyes, wide
with wonder, and her lips, her
slender jawbone. i wish she
would turn around. i try to speak,
but words don't come.
her bare feet pad across the
room and she pauses in the doorway,
head turned to the side, as if listening,
perhaps to my h
Literature
NaPoWriMo: Day 3
Today,
I wanted to pluck my ribs
from out my chest &
hang them about my house
like wind chimes-
dangled brutality;
a taunt for hungry wolves.
I didn’t grab for sharp objects,
I just wrote about it.
I never knew
I wanted to be a writer
until I lost something.
I still don’t know what that is-
(my mind, maybe.)
But words,
they fill gaps
that had no stories
to keep them
from hollowing out
in the first place.
Literature
intricately ordinary
I am the wayward child,
subliminal and defeathered—
almost perfect.
What's that in your heart?
Myths and the things that really matter
like wallflower clippings,
unfiltered and restless.
Don't forget to let me go;
the keepers of my heart
are undedicated,
sleeping behind the wheel.
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THIS IS WHO I AM.
And it's taken me way too damn long to say it.
And thank you to the person who told me that this is good
And it's taken me way too damn long to say it.
And thank you to the person who told me that this is good
© 2012 - 2024 winterkate
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Amazing I love your descriptions