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Literature Text
listen: you are not
romeo and i am not
juliet. you are
not a sailor or
a war hero or a prince.
we are not star-crossed
or meant to be. but
your fingers are stained with ink
and your eyes are full
of hidden stars and
when i'm with you i feel like
i could fly if i
had wings. you hate the
snow and love the rain and you
dance tentatively,
like a baby bird first
taking flight. your book of
auden's poetry
is dog-eared, and you
sing me lullabies under
your breath like secrets.
listen: we are not
perfect. i don't believe in
fate, or meant-to-be.
you hold grudges and wear
mismatched socks. we can't read minds
or last forever.
but i want to try.
because you are not perfect,
but you are perfect
for me. and when you
put your arms around me, i
can believe that it's
enough. ( i never
liked fairytales anyway.
and romeo and
juliet died in
the end. ) so just hold me close
and we can pretend
that planets in the
night sky align when we kiss
and angels sing when
we fuck. because all
that really matters in the
end is you and me.
listen: you are not
prince charming. but you, you are
still worth waiting for.
romeo and i am not
juliet. you are
not a sailor or
a war hero or a prince.
we are not star-crossed
or meant to be. but
your fingers are stained with ink
and your eyes are full
of hidden stars and
when i'm with you i feel like
i could fly if i
had wings. you hate the
snow and love the rain and you
dance tentatively,
like a baby bird first
taking flight. your book of
auden's poetry
is dog-eared, and you
sing me lullabies under
your breath like secrets.
listen: we are not
perfect. i don't believe in
fate, or meant-to-be.
you hold grudges and wear
mismatched socks. we can't read minds
or last forever.
but i want to try.
because you are not perfect,
but you are perfect
for me. and when you
put your arms around me, i
can believe that it's
enough. ( i never
liked fairytales anyway.
and romeo and
juliet died in
the end. ) so just hold me close
and we can pretend
that planets in the
night sky align when we kiss
and angels sing when
we fuck. because all
that really matters in the
end is you and me.
listen: you are not
prince charming. but you, you are
still worth waiting for.
Literature
Desperation
This is o v e r l o a d
Too damn much. Can't think, can't think ,
"Oh, fuck"
What do I do? What the hell could I possibly do?
Cornered and weaponless, I am going to die.
"Any last words?" He asks. His voice is raspy and deep.
He raises his arm. He has a gun.
My life is supposed to flash before my eyes, isn't it?
The hard drive is full, there is no s p a c e for anything but panic in my head.
And how embarrassing, I'm crying, trembling in all my cowardly glory.
Dead end. Dead end. Dead end. Oh, shit.
My hands press against the brick wall of the alley hoping for just, something.
Is this the last thing I will ever feel? Please
Literature
Never-ending
Never-ending
I remember you once asked me,
To describe my love for you...
And I said that no matter how hard I tried,
I could never stop loving you...
And then you asked me,
To tell you just one word,
A word so full of meaning,
One that would show your worth...
To me...
So this is the message,
The word I am sending,
This is my love for you,
My love is...
Never-ending...
I remember the look you gave me,
The smile on your face,
A look and smile of love so undying,
I swear...it's something I can taste...
And then you leaned towards me,
And whispered just one word,
A word so full of meaning,
One that would show m
Literature
Four years.
I was nine when they left me, when my best friend became my father, when the cancer got bad and I had to learn how to cook and clean and tuck myself into bed at night.
I was nine when my mother quit her job, and began spending every hour she had in the hospital, when my father began breaking promises and changing rules and getting lost on the highway because the hospital was the only place he knew.
I was nine when I understood what it meant to grow up too quickly, when they pulled me out of my classroom to tell me she was dying, when I realized that losing my sister would end more lives than one.
I was thirteen when they decided they could
Suggested Collections
- what we can live without.
fifty-nine days and counting.
fifty-nine days and counting.
© 2010 - 2024 papergirl88
Comments8
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I agree wholeheartedly with :devYashawi:.
And I loved the way you wrote it in haikus. (:
And I loved the way you wrote it in haikus. (: