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Literature Text
i hope my children will
live without knowing how
it feels to be a poet; they
don't deserve to hurt
that i should pick up the
gun if i don't give them
materialistic things; so
unprepared, i'm hella
scared::::
bitchbitchbitchbitchingchildren,
how can you not understand
this economy: i thought that
you would die for love and
not for greed; you'll
marry men with ca$h pouring
from their silicone hearts
and then you will want me
to help you <escape> when
you realize that this was
not what you wanted, this
is the opposite of american
freedom and now you're learning
the concept of slavery
(you're welcome)
live without knowing how
it feels to be a poet; they
don't deserve to hurt
they don't need
to tattoo the name
of the boy or the
girl they love onto
their hearts, with
eyes open wide, eating
away at their inner
cheeks because they love
the t a s t e of
self-DESTRUCTION
to tattoo the name
of the boy or the
girl they love onto
their hearts, with
eyes open wide, eating
away at their inner
cheeks because they love
the t a s t e of
self-DESTRUCTION
(the body is the
temple of
temple of
g o d ;
a vessel of divinity
but we are not angels, we
are men and women sold to
each other for five cents,
ten extra if you're a virgin,
call me crazy, i'm fucking insane
i'm starting to care less, why
should we work harder if we just
die in the end)
my children will tell mea vessel of divinity
but we are not angels, we
are men and women sold to
each other for five cents,
ten extra if you're a virgin,
call me crazy, i'm fucking insane
i'm starting to care less, why
should we work harder if we just
die in the end)
that i should pick up the
gun if i don't give them
materialistic things; so
unprepared, i'm hella
scared::::
"what the fuck, mom?""you don't love us at all!"
"bitch!"
bitchbitchbitchbitchingchildren,
how can you not understand
this economy: i thought that
you would die for love and
not for greed; you'll
marry men with ca$h pouring
from their silicone hearts
and then you will want me
to help you <escape> when
you realize that this was
not what you wanted, this
is the opposite of american
freedom and now you're learning
the concept of slavery
(you're welcome)
i hope my children will
live without knowing how
it feels to be a poet; they
don't deserve to hurt
i hope my children will
die knowing that i cared;
i hope my children can
take the world in their
palms and make it a better
place
live without knowing how
it feels to be a poet; they
don't deserve to hurt
i hope my children will
die knowing that i cared;
i hope my children can
take the world in their
palms and make it a better
place
Literature
only human.
I.)
i wake up and
wish i could wrap band(age)s
around my wounds like
i am Jupiter,
a God who has the right
to split colours
across celestial bodies
millions of miles away
but,
i am not Jupiter.
II.)
and i cannot separate
dreams from reality,
day from night let alone
colours;
there are times i am not
even a body but a statue,
caught in the clutches
of an earthquake and i
am a million miles away
without even leaving the room -
it is times like this
black, yellow and green
are indistinguishable and
i am too far gone to
even remember to envy
Jupiter in all his glory.
III.)
i wake up and wrap
band(ages) around my wounds
like a human
Literature
Metamorphosis
i.)
Fragile:
she would wrap
cocoons of
silver lies around
his pulsing blue
throat and
trace lilies with
her fingernails
into his skin and
say,
"look, your hands are made of glass,
i'll hold them warm between my fingers
and keep you from shattering."
ii.)
She
lied.
His wings
lay torn and
dirty, the
silver lining
ripped from his
dreams. Cold
clung to his
skin like a nightmare,
the echoes closing
up his
lungs.
(gasp
gasp
gasp
for
air without
oxygen - breathing
nothing and
choking on
empty)
iii.)
- but not dying.
his shell, broken -
eyes opened and
he saw he was
not made of
perspex but
of perspective and
sometimes you have
to break a
Literature
.
my sister -
she never hears the universe
singing to her,
she doesn’t even know
it has a song;
i watch
the birds land on her
dusty windowsill and
sing – beaks agape;
lungs bursting with
life,
i write
each note,
nurturing the secrets
they bring -
the seeds they
give;
look, i say, look
at the flowers
Gaia has given us
but she turns her head away,
and the flowers wilt,
unnoticed.
(i keep growing more
out of nothing but foolish hope)
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100/140 poems completed.
just one month left of day-after-day poetry. i'll still write poetry of course, but probably not every day. unless i do. but i think you get it lmao
so anyways, i hope you liked the poem!!
-Chell
just one month left of day-after-day poetry. i'll still write poetry of course, but probably not every day. unless i do. but i think you get it lmao
so anyways, i hope you liked the poem!!
-Chell
© 2015 - 2024 skullhips
Comments19
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your thoughts and ideas are always mind shattering but so so so real...!!!!