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Literature Text
I know that you’re suffering,
And I want to help you,
But you keep pushing me away.
I don’t know how you feel;
I’ve rarely ever been upset before.
And yet, somehow,
I can still feel your pain.
I wish that I could share with you
The peace that I’ve been blessed with.
And I want to help you,
But you keep pushing me away.
I don’t know how you feel;
I’ve rarely ever been upset before.
And yet, somehow,
I can still feel your pain.
I wish that I could share with you
The peace that I’ve been blessed with.
Literature
Windows
Such a small little girl, with the biggest heart I've ever known. She doesn't quite understand everything that's going on. It takes all the strength I have not to let her see me cry, so I'm glad for the cover of night. She's in the back seat as we drive, her face towards the waxing moon."Mommy..."She waits for me to say, "What, baby?"And then again she waits for a moment before asking, "Is daddy coming too?"The crushing weight of the answer takes the breath out of my lungs."No, baby. Daddy and mommy can't live together anymore."It's history repeating. Only she's younger. And my own mother had left me in silence. For a second, I feel like a...
Literature
quarter past midnight
The nascence of fall whispers
Quietly behind my ears -The ripple of a full golden moon
Over thick, inky waves.
The last storm of summer left
Gaping darkness in the glass city,
Contorted boughs etched against
A disconcertingly wide sky.Months of transition.Anesthesia.
The knowledge that one day
That there will be one
Empty bed in the house
(please have mercy
please).
Drowning out the fear in soundwaves late at night.
Tearing lives apart with my bare hands
(Blood swirling open like petals;
I'm so sorry).
Crippling self hate and doubt.
Running from the ones I should love
(the southern stars offer consolation; outside,
the milky way arches 30,...
Literature
Farewell
Dear, Jessica.Today Ronnie Childs died. Lucky me. The boys don’t want me to walk out and walk freee.
I can’t blame you for finally leaving me those months ago, but I know you too well.You wouldn’t have ripped me from your heart, even though you should have. I don’t regret loving you, but letting you love me is the greatest sin.
Or second worst. The first was joining a gang.I went numb as I ran out of things to care about.
Stopped caring about the taste of blood drawn in a fight, the bruises and cracked bones of my boys and myself, or what the other guys looked like.
Stopped caring about breaking into stores, robbing the guy behind the coun...
Part two of the other poem. It's about two different characters. Yeah =v='
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