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Literature Text
Lost
my arms wrapped around me
holding myself so tightly
rocking back and forth
missing your touch
trying hard to imagine
that you are still here
without you
my arms wrapped around me
holding myself so tightly
rocking back and forth
missing your touch
trying hard to imagine
that you are still here
without you
Literature
nothing more.
the sun is fading out
she says
whispers turn the day
into dusk
and she runs
through night
past lightning
lamps
let's not stop
she says
let's not stop
she wants
to cross
a forest,
an ocean
pass
through your mind
but
she says
the sun
is fading
out.
Literature
empty
she thinks
one day the wishes will crawl all over her bed
and creep down the curls of her hair,
all the little thoughts that tumble around in her mind
maybe if she pulls petals off enough flowers
or maybe if she replays the scenes over in her head for long enough,
when she asks him why he loves her,
he'll answer with something poetic that'll make her heart race
(because it's hard to paint about something when all they do is smile and kiss your fingers)
while her paints dry on a chaotic pallet
and she stares at an empty canvas, she thinks
maybe if she goes through the whole stupid lovesmelovesmenot game
one more time, picks out th
Literature
What It Isn't Is What It Is
This is not a love letter.
It's not a reminder of midnight stargazing, kissing under our bright yellow umbrella, witching hour phone calls, or slow dances. Because, my dearest, everyone knows that those are all so cliche like forgotten lace Valentines, broken promises, afternoon walks through the park, and a bouquet of a dozen thornless, dewy, bright, perfect red roses.
This is not a love poem.
It's not memories of Spearmint chewing gum kisses, tic-tac-toe in hot beach sand, you holding me and stroking my hair on Lazy Sundays, or whispers in a dark movie theater, complete with buttery popcorn. Because, m
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