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Literature Text
It's 3:45 in the morning
and I find the world
half-asleep
underneath the ocean.
and I find the world
half-asleep
underneath the ocean.
Literature
Hate
I hate
I hate well
I hate feverishly
I am the churning acid in your stomach
I am the blood pounding in your head
I am the white-knuckled fist clenching to strike
I am the red haze dimming your eyes
and clouding your mind
I am the rage that lashes out at the weak
the small and defenseless
justified by tears and fueled by alcohol
I hate passionately
I am the shaking in your hands
and grinding teeth
nails digging into your palms
I am everything you hate
boiling to the surface in a froth of
bile
blood
and excrement
I am the indiscriminate spray of bullets
at the school
church
nightclub
I am the madman raving on the news
heaping blame
Literature
love in the stars
she wears her heart on her sleeve
like the night wears the stars
she wakes up everyday
expecting the unexpected
like love could appear out
of thin air and she could
breathe it in by accident
if it were up to her,
the kind of love that
she would fall for
would be the endless
kind
Literature
attempts
this afternoon
unresponsive to the sunlight
lying in bed like summer afternoons and white sheets
still moments in our room
so quiet i can hear your ribcage shifting with each breath
but winter -
winter is coming,
the air is so cold,
my bones break inside.
your remove yourself from me,
turn your head away,
hand slipping out of mine,
curling into yourself.
this morning
waking up to brightness outside
the crisp air is singing with potential but
i am quiet
i am inside
i am by myself on this big bed.
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