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Literature Text
sometimes I am filled with
all the love in the world
is not enough
all the love in the world
is not enough
Literature
I'm Not Sure Why All of This
I stick my toes into the flaccid skin
collected on the floor, as he tells me
that he’s going to construct me a wooden bra
and that cunning smile of mine
creeps across my face.
The headlights on the shitty asphalt,
of the pleasantly named subdivision streets,
illuminate the features of that thing they call a canine.
He asks me what is on my mind,
which always presses
for something that isn’t pessimistic.
She shows her teeth to the stench of foot odor,
and I tell him,
‘Her mouth looks like
a vagina.’
Literature
Behind The Mask
Behind the mask there is a girl
Who long ago left this world
To her funeral no one came
But she kept acting, just the same
Her feet kept moving as her mind slowed
But the signs she never showed
Look behind her eyes and you’ll see
There’s nothing there, just what used to be
Ask again, she’ll say she’s fine
She always says it, every time
But she’s so far from ok
Never again will she see the day
Stuck inside an eternal night
She begs you to put out her light
She cannot stand to bare pain
But she breathes just the same
She’s asking you to kill her now
She’d kill herself, but she doesn’t kno
Literature
Obsessive
I am obsessive.
At least, I think so, and I think you're beginning to see that too.
I am the one with no life, no reason, besides you, to do anything.
Sit.
Wait.
Watch.
Wonder.
Watch.
Wait.
Sit.
Constantly. I've nothing to do, nowhere to go, no-one to see, but you. You have filled my vision, and my mind, and my heart, and rendered me useless in all other endeavors, and therefore, I am obsessive.
Obsessive. Yes. I think about you constantly, and it feels to me like it might be beginning to annoy you, though perhaps that's a misconception on my part, set me straight.
Set.
Me.
Straight.
I write nothing but what will inspire yo
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Comments68
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aren't there holes there
to let you fall out
of yourself?
to let you fall out
of yourself?