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Literature Text
Some small curl of smoke,
across a mess of sheets;
a tilted query masked in breath...
...perhaps someone just spoke.
Cold fingers against moist skin,
blinking at those floating protein strands,
back and forth into breathless silence...
as they say..."better out than in."
Rolling that curl around your tongue,
while my mouth goes numb with cotton;
because that ceiling is falling...
...with a twilight that just won't come.
And the onyx is as sweet,
as the darkness beneath
laughter dances....finality drenches the tips
of weary wandering feet.
Literature
ritual for letting go
I let go of you today our memories in the form of seeds I gave them to the birds at the lake to nourish them like they once nourished me. I tossed handfuls to the magpies who perched in the trees waiting for me to walk away - and I did. I gave some to the swan like the one that we fed back in Iceland. The gulls came and called for the others. Ducks swam over and quacked happily. A hooded crow joined and stared at me. I had no more food left to give, but he found some I had tossed on the ground. They´re still eating, those birds. Picking up the remnants of what I held onto. They will carry our memories far away from here, and I will sit near the still water.
Literature
The Visitor
The night is dark and silent But I hear a faint scratching at my door I try to ignore it, hoping it will go away But it grows louder and more persistent I get up from my bed and walk towards the door I reach for the handle, but hesitate What if there is something out there Something evil and hungry Waiting for me to open the door And let it in I decide to look through the peephole Maybe it's just a stray cat or a raccoon But what I see makes me scream in fright A pair of red eyes staring back at me A twisted grin full of sharp yellow teeth A pale face covered in blood and scars It's not human, it's not animal It's something else It sees me too, and it laughs A horrible sound that chills my bones It speaks in a raspy voice that sounds like nails on a chalkboard "Hello, my friend. I've been looking for you." It raises a clawed hand and slams it on the door The wood cracks and splinters It's trying to break in I run back to my bed and grab my phone I dial 911, but there is no
Literature
cro-cro-cro-Croak!!!!!
frog in the window in between glass and shutter mighty call for love
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to expound a tad. this isn't about too much of anything except when you're in complete or partial darkness and silence. alone or accompanied(as in this case)...falling asleep...when hypersensitive of those semi-formed thoughts and mental murmurs....of skin on skin and heartbeat...kinda loopy but greatly significant to me
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Comments5
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This is really hypnotically written, well done!