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Literature Text
There is a wolf lurking in my doorway;
our eyes holding breathless conversations
as secrets whisper through the stroke of my pen
into the awaiting lungs of strangers.
…Soon young pup, you'll have nothing left to say.
My heart is woven together with tight-knit words,
blood red Poe, and thumping Hemingway-
Yet, no headstrong Omega sleeps
within this slightly cracked, ribcage embrace.
"I am unafraid of forests with teeth."
our eyes holding breathless conversations
as secrets whisper through the stroke of my pen
into the awaiting lungs of strangers.
…Soon young pup, you'll have nothing left to say.
My heart is woven together with tight-knit words,
blood red Poe, and thumping Hemingway-
Yet, no headstrong Omega sleeps
within this slightly cracked, ribcage embrace.
"I am unafraid of forests with teeth."
Literature
Constructive Criticism
"Tell me what you think."
"Of the poem?"
"No, of my face. Yes, the poem."
"I was going to say, because your face is just stupid."
"Very funny. Read."
"..."
"What did you think?"
"Why did you write this?"
"I wrote it for you."
"For me?"
"Yes."
"You make me self conscious when you say things like that."
"I know."
"I'm not worth this you know."
"What does that mean?"
"I am half a girl, and I deserve half a poem."
"That is not true, and you still haven't told me what you really thought about it."
"It's as broken and complex and half hearted as a sad song about the way you feel ink trail between your fingers like it's blood. There
Literature
Her Cold Lips
Her Cold Lips:
She watches me, as I bid my friends goodbye
Her cold hands creep along my shoulders
they tell me that she is there
and that she will never let me go...
We're in my room now, away from the outside
I know that she doesn't like the sun
Often, she prefers to observe me from the shadows
but I think she doesn't like the others coming close...
We're beneath the covers now, panting softly
her cold body pressed against mine
Her lips are completely devoid of warmth
and yet they taste so rousingly sweet
A haunting, a haunter and the haunted
Two of us now entwined beneath the ruffled sheets
We cross a barrier that should not
Literature
Barely Breathing
Barely Breathing:
Are you feeling cold in here, lost perhaps
It makes me wonder if you can even hear me
Has your mind degraded into a lump of fat
Broken by what you've been forced to endure?
As I stroke your cheeks it makes me remember
The loving shrillness of your frightened shrieks
You screamed and screamed until your throat was bloody
As I slowly took your limbs from you...
Now you dangle helpless on wires and chains
An artistic puppet, which is made from flesh
No hands or feet to lash out violently
No arms or muscles to thrash...
The breath that rasps from your broken lips
Is the sound that tells me, you are still alive
But
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Headache + Writers Block = Simply AMAZING work!