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Literature Text
I saw a butterfly cocoon once,
and I wondered to myself,
"What goes on in there?"
Maybe I could poke it,
prod it,
put it through something similar
to what I've been through,
and see if it reacts.
I wonder if
a butterfly would still come out
of that cocoon;
maybe with some wound,
or scar,
or maybe
it would end up
with a broken wing.
Just like me.
and I wondered to myself,
"What goes on in there?"
Maybe I could poke it,
prod it,
put it through something similar
to what I've been through,
and see if it reacts.
I wonder if
a butterfly would still come out
of that cocoon;
maybe with some wound,
or scar,
or maybe
it would end up
with a broken wing.
Just like me.
Literature
Sonnets and Bruises
What would you give me
if I asked you for a pulse?
My trip to dreamland
is grey. The way
there's bliss in the in-between
of sunsets and dawns;
blowing cigarette smoke
in the lines
of the fades.
The span of her and me
scares me-
the child who picks
fairies and swallows them,
when you know me well enough.
I'm a staccato of insects
too close to fire
and raindrops too quick
to be steam. Lonely merry-go-rounds
and bottles for lanterns
are the cobblestones
beneath my feet;
and I love tripping on them.
Think of the cyclones
we'd ride and the tomorrows
we'd wrap around our pinkies;
had you met me first.
Oh, the number of and's
we'd use
to replac
Literature
words that wreck me
i loved writing but i loved you more so i wrote
you a fairytale and tucked you in-between
the pages i'm sorry that i didn't ask your
permission before having the princess end up with another
princess i should have stopped short of happily
ever after 'cause when things are vague and
complicated we'll always find ways to pull the right words
out of a tragedy
Literature
Underappreciated
A moth is beautiful
but none choose to praise it.
Instead, monarchs flutter, and suddenly,
twenty-four lines are written about how
its amber coloring
reminds you of autumn's heartbreaks
and winter's futile approach, seizing
the broken vessel you tried to tape
together, but to no avail;
its black outline
reminds you of the eyeliner she wore
day after day, all perfect and pristine,
until one day,
you found her among rosebushes & lilacs
crying out "Why does it always rain?"
Where is her sun?
its slender antennae
reminds you of stilts, splintery and all,
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Comments12
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Wow! Very creepy and touching at the same time.