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literature

El Mal Pais

Queen---of---Spades's avatar
By Queen---of---Spades   |   Watch
0 2 63 (1 Today)
Published: October 17, 2007
As I sit here,
On the edge of the world,
I think back.
But it's all I can do not to look back.
All those times you said you'd stay,
Stupid me, I believed you.
I have to glace over the edge,
Just a small one.
I have to admit I'm a little nervous.
I can't see anything,
There's only fog,
Just like that day...
But I can't think about that now.
This will take all of my focus,
I hope.
I start my descent.
This terrain is rough,
The fog is heavy.
Dark trees twist and turn in their neverending search for light.
Huge webs shake with the weight of the spider's anticipation as I pass.
But I won't be the victim anymore.
No, this is my home now.
I have become the predator.
After all, these are The Bad Lands....
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It hurt
It hurt when you left me. Hurt when you walked away. It hurt when you turned your back. and hurt when you didn't stay. It hurt when I saw you with her. Hurts when you kiss. It hurts when you're gone. hurts that You I still miss. It hurt when you looked at me. Hurts when you smile. It hurt when you wave. Hurts that I'm gonna be alone for a while. It hurt when you looked my way. Hurts to still see. It hurt when you came over. It hurt when you said your sorry to me. Hurt never goes away.
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Love Letters On the Train
Dear Stranger, I'm leaving this post-it tucked in the side of the train-seat. If you're reading this, you've seen it. I've seen you sit here every few Monday mornings, sometimes tapping a bent, unlit cigarette against your thigh, sipping from your tea (who brings a tea cup onto a train anyway?); sometimes staring at the rain outside, or reading your well-worn, beaten copy of Jane Eyre (I hate that you fold the corners down - it's bibliophilic abuse. I wish the book would papercut you to defend itself a little, but I digress). You seemed so sad this Monday morning past. Please smile again. I love it when your eyes catch the light of something
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The Tide's Coming
The bugs whisper of your coming with their legs, As the moon hides— Turning my edge of the world black— I cannot see, but through the pinholes of stars. The trees rustle, Shivering as you pass— Your heat removed. I hear nothing But nature rebelling against you. But then all goes silent— The sea stalls, The crickets feel your vibrations— Stopping them dead. The trees hover in stasis, Wishing they could uproot— Travel somewhere You can’t touch. I welcome your chill— My bones make music enough To fill the air, My breathing— A sea roar, its own. I am as aware of your presence As
Came up with this in the car on the way to Vegas. We were driving through some lava flows, and it reminded me of the Bad Lands, the most famous lava flow in New Mexico, and, consequently, my favorite place to go camping. ^^
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I
It hurt
It hurt when you left me. Hurt when you walked away. It hurt when you turned your back. and hurt when you didn't stay. It hurt when I saw you with her. Hurts when you kiss. It hurts when you're gone. hurts that You I still miss. It hurt when you looked at me. Hurts when you smile. It hurt when you wave. Hurts that I'm gonna be alone for a while. It hurt when you looked my way. Hurts to still see. It hurt when you came over. It hurt when you said your sorry to me. Hurt never goes away.
L
Love Letters On the Train
Dear Stranger, I'm leaving this post-it tucked in the side of the train-seat. If you're reading this, you've seen it. I've seen you sit here every few Monday mornings, sometimes tapping a bent, unlit cigarette against your thigh, sipping from your tea (who brings a tea cup onto a train anyway?); sometimes staring at the rain outside, or reading your well-worn, beaten copy of Jane Eyre (I hate that you fold the corners down - it's bibliophilic abuse. I wish the book would papercut you to defend itself a little, but I digress). You seemed so sad this Monday morning past. Please smile again. I love it when your eyes catch the light of something
T
The Tide's Coming
The bugs whisper of your coming with their legs, As the moon hides— Turning my edge of the world black— I cannot see, but through the pinholes of stars. The trees rustle, Shivering as you pass— Your heat removed. I hear nothing But nature rebelling against you. But then all goes silent— The sea stalls, The crickets feel your vibrations— Stopping them dead. The trees hover in stasis, Wishing they could uproot— Travel somewhere You can’t touch. I welcome your chill— My bones make music enough To fill the air, My breathing— A sea roar, its own. I am as aware of your presence As
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Comments (2)
FireFur's avatar
Nice, very creative!
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Queen---of---Spades's avatar
Queen---of---Spades|Hobbyist Photographer
Thank you!
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