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Literature Text
I had a little idea
He just came into my head
I don't know where he comes from
But he lives there, still.
His name is NOTHING
Such a power to his name
And everyone knows him
Because he's always there.
As NOTHING comes and
NOTHING goes SOMETHING
Manages to finally come along
And take NOTHING's place.
And when he leaves we're
Happy, but only for a while
Because if you wait a bit
He'll come back just the same.
And you'll continue to play
With NOTHING until
SOMETHING comes along
And then when there is
SOMETHING than
NOTHING will be
gone.
He just came into my head
I don't know where he comes from
But he lives there, still.
His name is NOTHING
Such a power to his name
And everyone knows him
Because he's always there.
As NOTHING comes and
NOTHING goes SOMETHING
Manages to finally come along
And take NOTHING's place.
And when he leaves we're
Happy, but only for a while
Because if you wait a bit
He'll come back just the same.
And you'll continue to play
With NOTHING until
SOMETHING comes along
And then when there is
SOMETHING than
NOTHING will be
gone.
Literature
Nocte
Hiding from the beast,
From tree to tree,
Running in the dark,
I tell myself such things,
Slow- so it won't find you,
Breath.
These fires have scorched far and wide,
Leaving the scent of my former cinders to linger in my head,
Like some bad bender,
Warped memories encircling grey,
The ground is made of shattered glass,
Broken dreams.
No lilies remain,
To any kingdom I run,
In mirrors of liquid glass,
Surrealist battles are won,
And like fear,
The spider crawled from my mouth.
They are sedating everything,
Brush pixilated,
Focus changing,
Leaving me to run in the dark,
Caught in the eye of the storm,
Hiding in the calm.
Literature
Short story
A six word story resembles this.
Literature
homecoming
nearly home. nearly home. a space and time away from where you want to be: belonging to yourself. there is a midnight garden somewhere inside my lungs, black and tarry from the darkness i am siphoning from your lips to mine, trying to let the light in, trying to stop the hurt becoming a euphemism for two vertical red lines drawn in a bathtub. you have turned me inside out. raw, vulnerable; the silence is an agony.
you have wormed your way inside and I have agreed to be your golem, a clay replacement for the affections of the woman who bedded herself beneath your skin and rearranged your spine. even so, let me give til i am a dry husk, let me
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Alrie, so this isn't OMFG LMAO "hahaha" funny either, but it has become of my favourites out of all the ones of that crazy night.
A poem that speaks the truth, and well the title speaks for itself.
A poem that speaks the truth, and well the title speaks for itself.
© 2005 - 2024 silverwingsoffire
Comments11
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XD such a cute little poem! ^^