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Literature Text
There's no point in filling my chest
when I love how I feel
when I'm starving to death
I want to throw rocks at innocent rib cages
So someone will feel how I do
Maybe
Cover my mouth with feathers and cotton
Drip-drop my eyes with white light
Wrap up my nerves til they're gone
Desensitized by my own self-loathing
I just love this suffocating
And in the end I feel pity for no one
(but me)
when I love how I feel
when I'm starving to death
I want to throw rocks at innocent rib cages
So someone will feel how I do
Maybe
Cover my mouth with feathers and cotton
Drip-drop my eyes with white light
Wrap up my nerves til they're gone
Desensitized by my own self-loathing
I just love this suffocating
And in the end I feel pity for no one
(but me)
Literature
because I know you're...
you mouth
Bukowski
beautifully
but I'm ready
to try
your own tongue
I'm delighted
you discovered
sex & selfishness
substance(s) & circumstance
excelling at art
excrement & experimentation
exposing your
pretend
private parts
I know how
sometimes
your heart breaks
over the sounds
those empty words make
and everything reminds you
of everything you're not
you're bruised
drowning in booze
and forever in love
with yourself
I get it
now
give me something real
Literature
reasons you should listen.
i. because you are the reason
i want to give up
sometimes. because i'll never be
as wonderful as you, and i
feel like a piece of nothing compared to you. but
you are the one holding my hand
and pushing me forward, gently,
and suddenly,
you are the reason
i keep trying.
ii. because i don't speak
often. because this
is a piece of me
i'm afraid to show.
iii. have you ever felt
like giving up? like
you're the gum stuck
on someone's shoe, and they
only want to be rid of you?
have you ever broken down
just because it feels like
no one cares?
because if you ever do,
i'll be there for you.
i promise.
iv. because i need yo
Literature
bird wings.
theres a girl who has irses the colour of running ink. she covers canvasses with blood-red paint and covers note books in everything she wishes she could be. hanging red canvasses on the blue walls in her room sometimes make her feel as though she's burning. when she comes home from school she lays on her bed and she cries, burning from the inside out.
-
theres a girl who spends her nights curled in a ball, in the park behind her house. her cheeks are decorated in purple-blue-black bruises and her tights are ripped. i want to hold her to my chest and run my fingers through her sienna hair; hold her hands and kiss her fingers. i want to prot
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You hurt so I don't have to.
© 2008 - 2024 AGoddessFinch
Comments33
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I love this poem. Welcome to my gallery