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Literature Text
i see naked bodies in the gutter as i walk queen street at 3 am. they make love, awkward but warm in the concrete curve. i don't place their clothes. i think it is wonderful though. the heat, the heat.
my entire body is rolling from heavy to light, like the shore. my head is humming and my limbs ache dull. there is a sickness in my stomach or in my throat. i think that maybe my stomach is wanting to force itself out my throat- but i won't have that.
i walk further. there are no straight lines to follow but i picture them in my mind and still cannot walk across them. i trip, tumble on the edge of the pavement and no one sees. the alcohol pulses through my blood stream and i begin to shout
i love her, i fucking adore her!
the brisbane night sky answers with an offset of bat noises and far off traffic. they don't understand though, they could never feel this. the sky may love the sun for lighting it each day and the moon for gracing its canvas with a milky glow, but it does not know the love i do.
she is my sun and moon and stars and dew and, she is life. my head throbs. i am not well.
the lovers are streets back. we could be them. but we're not. she has fallen asleep with music thrumming in her ears on somebody's couch and i am walking the city streets intoxicated, bowing to streetlamps.
i am not well.
heat, heat.
i wouldn't mind where we were. just to have the bare skin, the nakedness of her.
it's shooting heroin without the syringe. it's all i want, her, her and nothing but.
she's too far away. i can't hear breath or footsteps or heartbeat and that is why she is too far. i will fall asleep without her but i wish i wouldn't. i can feel it rushing over me, tired mind, tired. there is a bench ahead and why not? home is so far and i can only walk so far before passing out.
it isn't comfortable like she'd be. but i drift, rum blurring thoughts, into fogged and clouded dreams of us.
us (not me and you, not you and i)
us.
my entire body is rolling from heavy to light, like the shore. my head is humming and my limbs ache dull. there is a sickness in my stomach or in my throat. i think that maybe my stomach is wanting to force itself out my throat- but i won't have that.
i walk further. there are no straight lines to follow but i picture them in my mind and still cannot walk across them. i trip, tumble on the edge of the pavement and no one sees. the alcohol pulses through my blood stream and i begin to shout
i love her, i fucking adore her!
the brisbane night sky answers with an offset of bat noises and far off traffic. they don't understand though, they could never feel this. the sky may love the sun for lighting it each day and the moon for gracing its canvas with a milky glow, but it does not know the love i do.
she is my sun and moon and stars and dew and, she is life. my head throbs. i am not well.
the lovers are streets back. we could be them. but we're not. she has fallen asleep with music thrumming in her ears on somebody's couch and i am walking the city streets intoxicated, bowing to streetlamps.
i am not well.
heat, heat.
i wouldn't mind where we were. just to have the bare skin, the nakedness of her.
it's shooting heroin without the syringe. it's all i want, her, her and nothing but.
she's too far away. i can't hear breath or footsteps or heartbeat and that is why she is too far. i will fall asleep without her but i wish i wouldn't. i can feel it rushing over me, tired mind, tired. there is a bench ahead and why not? home is so far and i can only walk so far before passing out.
it isn't comfortable like she'd be. but i drift, rum blurring thoughts, into fogged and clouded dreams of us.
us (not me and you, not you and i)
us.
Literature
drunk
i swear to God the
ground's a magnet and that's why
i keep falling down.
Literature
sunday thoughts
you are glowbracelets
and fireflies and oatmeal raisin cookies.
you are thunderstorms
and comic books and afternoons on the bleachers.
you are constellations
and crinkled denim and nights spent on the park bridge.
you are the best thing
i could ever hope for and i love you more than should be allowed.
Literature
catharsis.
one.
i was knocking at your door. it was
freezing cold, and the ice-rain got inside
my heart, and i was screaming please,
please, let me in. and i was knocking
at your door until my voice was
gone and my knuckles were bleeding
and you never even heard me.
two.
apparently you are a different person now. apparently you have new friends to laugh with; joke with; cry with; tell secrets to.
apparently i'm not one of those friends anymore, and this breaks my heart - not that i'd ever tell you this. apparently we are no longer major parts of each other's life anymore, although we promised each other we'd never drift apart.
i wonder if the
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i'm so drunk right now
so it's kind of an experiment
i'm so tired and blur and fog and lines and dizzy stomach
n
-
why won't anyone love me?
please love me.
so it's kind of an experiment
i'm so tired and blur and fog and lines and dizzy stomach
n
-
why won't anyone love me?
please love me.
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Comments129
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you have no idea how much love is there for you after reading this :* not only from me for sure!
I bet you are so adorable