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Literature Text
claw out the eyes of god like you deserve to be the last thing he ever sees stand the hell up hospital girl and just once take the i.vs outta your arms like you actually believe you're more than just novocain and tragedy tiger-striped up in medical tape drop your damn crutches like you're dropping your jaw and for once talk like the people who're supposed to love you will love you this time you write so scared and you speak like there's hell in your throat and you're doing everyone a favor by locking it up you tremble like you've got lilies pinned to your spine and you smile like a dog kissing highway asphalt you're inhumane self-sacrifice skin and holy shit you can't possibly see yourself you can't understand what it really looks like you can't or they wouldn't be there and there are two things i will never understand schrödinger's cat and how you hate because you flinch from people like you wanna be held and you punish yourself like you wanna be loved and you grin at strangers like you wanna get killed you're a walking contradiction breathing like you shouldn't the only difference between you and the cat is that you're not in a steel box and everyone knows how this ends .
Literature
Cry
You're in pain, are you not?
With your bleeding heart and red rimmed eyes.
You have scars beneath your skin,
buried deep away from sight.
Because it hurts less to smile, when you're dying inside,
than it does to show your broken soul.
Because when someone knows you cry each night,
you reopen the wounds you've been trying to close.
So you bleed, you break, without leaving a clue,
you burn, you scream, where no one can hear.
There's an active volcano inside your heart,
but no one will notice when your smile's so bright.
But are you invincible or are you human?
Are you a soldier or are you immortal?
You're fighting a war inside yourself,
with
Literature
break / in two
7:02 a.m.
nothing hurts when i sleep, but in waking i glare at the mirror and want to shatter
everything breakable in the room, that is
the mirror the glass over the picture the perfume bottle the teacups on the bookshelves the
rocking chair the cartilage in my hand against the ground
low noon.
once again, they go as far from themselves as possible.
1:35 p.m.
AND EVEN GOD OH YES EVEN GOD OH GETS SAD AND LONELY AT NIGHT SO
CAN YOU FORGIVE ME CAN YOU FORGIVE ME
10:19 p.m.
palms pressed on clean cotton sheets,
she arches like a shooting star:
her spine cracks,
not all at once like the snap of a bone,
but like a branch
breaking under the weig
Literature
Dead love
When love dies
Leaving behind the shreds
Of something that was once beautiful
A little bit of you
Of who you really are
Dies along with it
As your broken heart
Slowly falls apart
Bringing you excruciating pain
It doesn't matter
How many times it happens
The pain is the same
Getting used to it
Doesn't help one bit
And we never learn the lesson
For we keep opening ourselves
Only to face disappointment
Again and again
In the end of it all
Only the memories remain
Both good and bad
Filling our minds
And raising questions
The "Why" and the "How"
That led something pure
Something seemingly perfect
To utter oblivion
Such sadness and pain
Leave sc
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I would just like to say that you are a cool deer