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Literature Text
if parallel dimensions exist, then somewhere there is a me that actually lost you. i don't think she is doing very well. i wonder if she has even gotten out of bed. i wonder if she believes that this is all a nightmare she just can't wake up from. i believe i would if i was her.
i feel so very sorry for her, knowing that you are still here with me now. knowing that i can still hear the solidarity, the steadiness, the safety...the things in your voice that are justified but i cannot explain because the english language does not have enough words for describing sound.
i think that's part of why sometimes we only make noises to each other. words cannot say enough, because they are filled with complications. connotations that differ between people from that main denotation. so we roar, we whimper, we sigh, we make that noise like getting comfortable in the crook of the other's neck. they tend to get more across, or at least they are sounds not as weak as structured consonants and vowels lined next to each other.
just moans and growls and mmmmms.
but that poor parallel dimension me. she must be replaying that video we took of you saying "I love you." you whispered it, you said it softly, but you said it with...you said it in every way that made our hearts strengthen. she must be trying to imagine you as your arms encircled us, nibbling our ears to make them warmer. then she must be thinking..."that will never happen again."
after a while, she might get enough energy in her to make a time machine. she'll buy a delorean. she'll trip on acid. she'll do everything just to try and make time twist backward. she needs a vacation in paradise. where she can hear your heart beat and your lips twitch into a giggle.
of course she tries to go there. how could she possibly keep living when she has planned every next minute with you? even those minutes you're not actually there, she planned to at least be thinking about your later times together. we were planning.
now her future is just this desert of motivation.
i feel so sorry for her.
and yet i know that, unless i die before you, i will become her.
our parallel dimensions will encircle upon each other. does that possibly mean that time does not always go forward?
does that mean you are always there?
of course not. it just means i wish the world was built that way.
i feel so very sorry for her, knowing that you are still here with me now. knowing that i can still hear the solidarity, the steadiness, the safety...the things in your voice that are justified but i cannot explain because the english language does not have enough words for describing sound.
i think that's part of why sometimes we only make noises to each other. words cannot say enough, because they are filled with complications. connotations that differ between people from that main denotation. so we roar, we whimper, we sigh, we make that noise like getting comfortable in the crook of the other's neck. they tend to get more across, or at least they are sounds not as weak as structured consonants and vowels lined next to each other.
just moans and growls and mmmmms.
but that poor parallel dimension me. she must be replaying that video we took of you saying "I love you." you whispered it, you said it softly, but you said it with...you said it in every way that made our hearts strengthen. she must be trying to imagine you as your arms encircled us, nibbling our ears to make them warmer. then she must be thinking..."that will never happen again."
after a while, she might get enough energy in her to make a time machine. she'll buy a delorean. she'll trip on acid. she'll do everything just to try and make time twist backward. she needs a vacation in paradise. where she can hear your heart beat and your lips twitch into a giggle.
of course she tries to go there. how could she possibly keep living when she has planned every next minute with you? even those minutes you're not actually there, she planned to at least be thinking about your later times together. we were planning.
now her future is just this desert of motivation.
i feel so sorry for her.
and yet i know that, unless i die before you, i will become her.
our parallel dimensions will encircle upon each other. does that possibly mean that time does not always go forward?
does that mean you are always there?
of course not. it just means i wish the world was built that way.
Literature
lie.
The word 'lie', in the English language, has over ten different meanings. Most of these meanings are similar and have to do with things like an object resting on a surface (often confused with the word lay which is the actual act of resting something on something else) or not speaking the truth when you should.
The word lie, in the language I speak, is ugly and awkward. It's a square inside a circle, purple on brown, a broken bottle of Jack Daniels in a field of fresh and smiling dandelions. It crunches under my feet and pokes up between my toes with sharp sounds and I hate it. I hate how it sounds.
lie verb (used without object)
to
Literature
it hurts
i know i hurt you
and...
... i silently confess,
i like that,
no...
... i love it.
you.
not
because i enjoy hurting
you
but because
you hurt
just
for me.
Literature
realized I was not a masochist
as I stand here, suffocating, I wonder whats next.
will I make it out alive?
what do I look like?
are my lips swollen?
do I still have lips?
what are lips?
-
I am leaking raindrops and dripping tonights dinner into the living room below me. I am bleeding tears out of my mouth and puke from my eyes. I swear, I cant stop bleeding, but Im not bleeding blood- Im bleeding purple pigments- Im bleeding bags under my eyes; Im holding these bags so tightly in my hands that Im bruising sunsets under my eyes, and he just watches me in the sky.
I tell myself to set. just set like a sunset; just fall
Suggested Collections
parallel dimensions & time travel
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