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Literature
dreamergirl
The Last Time I saw you,
you were down in the dirt,
[literally] on hands and knees,
looking for the bit of magic
your father had promised was toiling
just underneath the surface.You feel it, you whispered in
a cotton hush like the vibrancy
of your voice would intimidate the
dreams you scraped at beneath the
faultlines. Daddy never told a lie
[excluding the usual good things
come to those who wait, and 'tis better
to have loved and lost, and every end
is a new beginning]. You feel it,
you whispered, trembling at the hands
the same way you did for the Pills
that couldn't quite fix the Problem..I never really understood all the ways
you crumb...
Literature
Neighbors Through the Glass Revised
“Do you know why you’re here?”A menacing spotlight shone on me from the direction of the ominous voice. I shivered, looking around frantically in the darkness. Where was I and how did I get there?A sigh emanated from the darkness, and I managed to stumble out an answer in response.“No. I didn’t do anything wrong.”“We know you didn’t. But you saw something didn’t you?”I remembered waving to my neighbor from my pod after I’d gotten home from my assigned job as bookkeeper just like I did every day. He was an elderly gentlemen and he lived directly to the right side of me. Our pods were made of glass, like little glass cubicles stacked one on ...
Literature
virid escent nostomania
i like my skies firstly blue
powdered antique azure; like the dusky aged dust on chalkhill moth's-wings in attics, the ones that- flutter at sundown beneath the pins behind the yellow glassi like my skies secondly green cocksuring capriciously teal; like the rusty old paint on beat-up millionnaires sardine-tins,
the ones that- heat at sundown in the warm red dirt in fields of yellow grassi like my skies thirdly red relentlessly pumping peach; like the scar shins on southern girls w...
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The reason why my poetry usually has all this spacing and indenting is not because i am a crazy-obsessed-with-spacing lunatic, but rather because i feel like this is the way the poem wants to bend. i guess it does sound a bit weird
© 2014 - 2025 AsterGirl
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