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Literature Text
sun-kissed skin &
sunken cheekbones
that accentuated her
melanin-blessed
features. she was a
wood nymph, that
one; a protruding
nose that resembled
the regality of a
birch sculpture,
terra-cotta flesh &
wisps of dense,
frizzy tresses;
centuries of history
etched on hair,
etched on skin,
& within the infinite
beauty she exuded.
sunken cheekbones
that accentuated her
melanin-blessed
features. she was a
wood nymph, that
one; a protruding
nose that resembled
the regality of a
birch sculpture,
terra-cotta flesh &
wisps of dense,
frizzy tresses;
centuries of history
etched on hair,
etched on skin,
& within the infinite
beauty she exuded.
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Literature
this is how we are (not)
he is evanescent,
iridescent colours
on the wall with
charcoaled lips
and broken ribs,
deflated lungs lying next
to a heat locked in
cardiac arrest
his soul beat out
of his chest and joined
the ghosts outside the
upstairs window, rushing
wind calling his
name. he was,
and he was not -
i lay drowning
in covers fifty
miles below the craters
of the moon and
wondered if it
wasn't time to
take a step and
fall.
Literature
XXII.
crack open your
emerald ribs;
splinter shards
of light
to hear the
pulsating crystal
shatter. they called
you fragile. they said
your story had no
spine
but
they don't know
iron swords
are smelted in
blood
and in strength.
(sharpen your tongue,
you are stronger than you think)
Literature
gravedigger
dear sarah,
i wonder
if sometimes you can still feel the weight of your bed sheet
around your neck. heaven knows there were days i could count every thread.
last night i was cleaning up my desk, and i found the scissors
i used to crack my skin open four years ago
and when i went to throw them out, it felt like moving mountains
or graves. if you don’t know yet, you’ll learn that some types of grief
leave scars—some ghosts don’t know how to stay buried.
you will stumble through the rest of your life wondering if you will
one day forget how it feels to toe the edge of the cliff and turn the other way.
the answer is no
Suggested Collections
A/N: It's real.
© 2017 - 2024 Orphically
Comments9
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pretend i'm saying something eloquent while i sigh with pleasure at this poem.