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Literature Text
I'm bleeding
Bleeding all my pain out
Pealing off my skin
To let the world inside
My body squeals
And shakes its swollen limbs
I pay no attention
I control all that is
I'm recycling
All my feelings into dust
The loop of existence
Now runs through my veins
Replacing my blood
It suffocates me
I stand still
And vaporise
Into my own nothingness
Bleeding all my pain out
Pealing off my skin
To let the world inside
My body squeals
And shakes its swollen limbs
I pay no attention
I control all that is
I'm recycling
All my feelings into dust
The loop of existence
Now runs through my veins
Replacing my blood
It suffocates me
I stand still
And vaporise
Into my own nothingness
Literature
if you have ghosts (you have everything)
my hands were blue and so was i
and i had everything:
a christmas tree
a guitar tuned by humidity
a dark library underneath my pillow
and a voice whose words jerk, jut
and stab quietly into one another
so i may never understand;
it was two AM, dawn of a decade
and here a ghost has me motionless in 1933.
--
i never met my grandfather till today--
he dies in 1975
and in 2020 he is born
at the bottom of a drawer in the kitchen,
his coffin and crib:
he is swaddled in moth-eaten dishtowels by a nameless undertaker
(or perhaps an autophagic author himself);
his crib and coffin:
he is buried a lifetime
(deaf to my cacophonous lifetime et ceter
Literature
A Dream Never...
A thirsty soul derailed
A life wasted and failed
A dream never to be
A poor spirit, that's me
A mortal on this path
That's filled with woe and wrath
A dream never come true
These days I do so rue
And I want
And I need
And I wish
To proceed
I don't know
I don't care
If I get
Anywhere
A person lost all hope
They tried their best to cope
A dream never realized
Existence so despised
And I want...
A human that fell down
They greet the cold ground
A dream never grew wings
A puppet on life's strings
Literature
Sad Poem (Written on a Monday)
Inside our house, surrounded
by plants, that soft light—
the weakest shade
of gray and waiting
to turn it all yellow.
I have slept and slept
for days now,
unfolding into small
moments, only to see you
orbiting our mattress,
waiting for some type of
human reaction, any
kind of movement.
I need a haircut.
I need to shave and go
to work and forget these
days of no control
where I’m a child again,
reeling and afraid that it
will always be this way,
that I will always be in my room,
alone until someone calls me down
for supper, and then a bath,
some prime time television,
and straight to bed.
I am locked outside of something
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© 2012 - 2024 Elendurwen
Comments15
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Very good. Very powerful. I see it as going through the most excruciating pain in order to let the pain go. It is attractive, but scary at the same time.