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Literature Text
sept. 30
October on the wing
i can tell things are getting bad again because i start thinking in poetry
all the sharp edges of the world stuck beneath my unguarded skin
feeding me imagery and sensation intravenously
i gag on the words as they spill onto the page, overwhelmed, drowning.
on bad days i watch the trains pass and think about hitching a ride,
southbound and down, out of this place.
on worse days i think about standing on the tracks with whiskey on my lips,
waiting on a 2000 ton kiss.
October on the wing
i can tell things are getting bad again because i start thinking in poetry
all the sharp edges of the world stuck beneath my unguarded skin
feeding me imagery and sensation intravenously
i gag on the words as they spill onto the page, overwhelmed, drowning.
on bad days i watch the trains pass and think about hitching a ride,
southbound and down, out of this place.
on worse days i think about standing on the tracks with whiskey on my lips,
waiting on a 2000 ton kiss.
Literature
stop ruining autumn.
listen:
fall makes me think of leaving and of apple cider, though i never liked apple cider.
but i liked the idea of it.
listen:
two years ago i met a boy as fragile as dead leaves who called me his little spring girl. (i'd always liked autumn the best.) he kissed the two soft dimples on the small of my back and told me helikedme helovedme hewantedme.
and oh, by the way, "everything good must come to an end."
listen:
on our one year anniversary we picked out two pumpkins and i drew elephants on them for us to carve. he cut his out so aggressively that it lost its shape.
lopped off tusks and broken trunks became just a large, jagged ho
Literature
compulsive liar.
once i asked you your favourite
colour, and you said, "the brown
of your eyes," so i put in one green
contact and told everyone that i
came out of the womb as a factory
defect, half-priced, damaged goods.
-
sometimes i am from canada and
sometimes i am from england and
sometimes i am from spain.
i've carefully tempered my accents
and plotted out my stories with
yellow and purple coloured pencils
on index cards. my origin changes
like the seasons.
"why do you lie to everyone?" you
ask.
"why not?" i reply.
-
i wear nametags that read "alicia"
and "liana" and "samantha," because
i want to know how it feels to be
someon
Literature
In Three Acts
man
cliff
sea
cliff
man
sea
cliff
sea
man
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a lot of trains pass my apartment. not a lot of things feel real right now.
© 2014 - 2024 summernightangel
Comments2
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with whiskey on your lips, and a life before you, the train ran on time as did you :)