literature

poetic rampages.

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Literature Text


secret number six-six-six,

i'm scared to love you.


a few hours ago, we were giggling and smiling
you were tugging up my skirt and i was blushing,
trying to cover my ghost-pale legs. i was comparing
my sad pasty arm to yours, the colour of over-sugared
coffee, pursing my lips and saying that you were the
white one. now the only words i can melt out of you
are either four letters or whatever, and my skirts all
hiked up without me even meaning it to. imissyou.

- - -

i wish all our conversations were all made
up of the pretty half-lies you tell me.


"i love you."
"you're always beautiful."
"i'll never hurt you."


liar liar liar liar liar.
[but you tell the prettiest lies i've ever heard,
and i want nothing more but to believe them.]


i've told you a hundred times about my
broken heart, and every time you ask
how my heart could possibly break and
every time i tell you it's just like breaking
porcelain or glass, you can't put all the
shards back together without getting cut
over, and over. even then it'd take years
to pull the splinters of glass out of your
finger tips, and sometimes it's just easier
left broken and ignored than half-fixed
and adored. you didn't understand a word.



today, all the other boys and girls
stared at us; your arms wrapped
lovingly around my diaphragm and
me bending half over backwards
trying to see you, your head resting
occasionally on my shoulder.
(you need to get some sleep, baby.)
girls pointed and i heard them
whispering under their breath, i
wish i had a boyfriend who would
hold me like that.
my heart was on
fire, because they didn't know. they
didn't know how many times you
yelled at me, ignored me, shut me
out. could you just talk to me?



when i look into your eyes i see a black hole,
one with a galaxy hiding deep inside; a constellation
of broken memories and ignored wishes. i see
anger and love and passion and indifference, i
see a sick boy hardened over by a life that has given
him way too much shit that he doesn't know how
to handle. i see a boy that i could love if he would
fucking love me first. (you told me you loved me first,
but i don't believe you. i think you're scared to love me.
)

all true...
not that great, but it's sure as fuck real.
imma go back ad add more in a second.
© 2009 - 2024 crushasphyxia
Comments36
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Sahmii-x's avatar
wow, this is amazing.
the second last stanza is somewhat perfect.
gave me an uncomfortable sick feeling in my stomach. :heart:
wonderful.