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Literature Text
"You can have all you ever wanted if you just try",
they say, but it seems my tries are worthless.
I'm never good enough for something that escalated even before my birth,
leading to torment and restless nights.
and it looks like nature created me to laugh at my faults and my almost-truths
that never come out the way I would like them to.
"Your eyes are just like two stars" he told me once upon a time,
but I remember the brightest stars always fade away so fast.
(Maybe that's why I became so dull to him after just a few days,
and maybe that's why he left with the autumn and the winter came
biting harshly and strongly on my soul - lover of springs and summers)
"She's a hurricane, born to destruction without causes"
was what I always heard from my family when I sat by the kitchen table
waiting for some understanding but only receiving criticisms.
You know? Fuck you.
I know I'll never be enough for some people in this world ever fated to war,
painted with the blood of the ones who have fallen to the ground long before
we learn to walk and write.
(And I know my soul is not the only one who never could be saved.)
they say, but it seems my tries are worthless.
I'm never good enough for something that escalated even before my birth,
leading to torment and restless nights.
and it looks like nature created me to laugh at my faults and my almost-truths
that never come out the way I would like them to.
"Your eyes are just like two stars" he told me once upon a time,
but I remember the brightest stars always fade away so fast.
(Maybe that's why I became so dull to him after just a few days,
and maybe that's why he left with the autumn and the winter came
biting harshly and strongly on my soul - lover of springs and summers)
"She's a hurricane, born to destruction without causes"
was what I always heard from my family when I sat by the kitchen table
waiting for some understanding but only receiving criticisms.
You know? Fuck you.
I know I'll never be enough for some people in this world ever fated to war,
painted with the blood of the ones who have fallen to the ground long before
we learn to walk and write.
(And I know my soul is not the only one who never could be saved.)
Literature
Weavers, A Short Poem
If I should find that fate
Has tangled me in its strings
Then I shall simply create
A blade that can cut such things
And the severed strings I'll remake
Into thread with which I'll weave
The new path that I shall take
To the future I conceive
A weaver's work can never end
For to try to remake fate
One must travel through each twist and bend
At such a dizzying rate
And when the path is woven
The weaver can now rest
Knowing the path that they have chosen
Was a life lived at its best
So be a weaver all your life
For there's beauty in such things
To start just simply take the knife
And sever fate's cruel strings
Literature
Free is Thought
Long is the journey we must all have to make,
many are the paths that we all have to take.
Long is the distance travelled under rules,
many are the directions we are forced from our schools.
Long were the sermons we heard from the church,
many were the times when we were forced to search.
Then we met the angels, voices in our head,
telling us to think for ourselves instead.
And so we took more journeys to where we want to go,
and followed many paths that led to all we needed to know.
Mistakes we made were ours and no one else was blamed,
and still the voices from the past painted pictures that they framed.
Freedom comes disguised as doors
Literature
cycle.
(birth.)
i walk home, crisp shoelaces, bloodied nose
middle of autumn, frothing at the mouth
kids took summer skin too far, brought on apocalypse
i tell myself it will be over soon, wintertime freckles
will be here
incensed
(childhood.)
stove milk and delicate murmurs
the technicolor alphabet teaches itself
purple bowls with animal faces
hospital bracelets around tiny wrists
won’t come loose
mama
(adolescence.)
the clouds are gasoline, wisps of gin, addicted
there is vomit on the floor, new candy sores
sky is burning, orange with hungry flame, vying
i don’t know who to talk to, crying
let me go
alive
(adulthood.)
doctor
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