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Literature Text
your ghost tainted my pristine flesh
and left it spoiled, a sacrifice
and left it spoiled, a sacrifice
Literature
.
my sister -
she never hears the universe
singing to her,
she doesn’t even know
it has a song;
i watch
the birds land on her
dusty windowsill and
sing – beaks agape;
lungs bursting with
life,
i write
each note,
nurturing the secrets
they bring -
the seeds they
give;
look, i say, look
at the flowers
Gaia has given us
but she turns her head away,
and the flowers wilt,
unnoticed.
(i keep growing more
out of nothing but foolish hope)
Literature
//gliitch^*%$4
a tessellation of words all pretty and edged
like swords unsheathed and violence sedated
and numbness, syllables roll over each other
and words and verses form tides, you write
using big words, my english teacher encouraged us
to use the smaller ones and i always wondered
what the big words were for then, sitting idle;
unused, unwanted, a solemn misplaced defect
dictionaries all hinged and high on obscure artefact words
no-one ever uses anymore gone out of fashion
because people like us forgot them and let them fade
into oblivion. but you, you know what they are
maybe they are hard to hold but you hold them well
maybe you are hard to hold
Literature
here are my words
i used to dream whole cityscapes and skylines,
ocean cities and coves washed over with waves,
terrifying, brilliant, unable to touch me.
i used to be able to talk to trees,
to speak in palms and eyes-closed silences
and the sure roughness of bark under my fingernails.
i used to be able to sing
and believe that believing made me better,
believe that joy sounds bright and crescendos.
i used to be someone who tripped on her words,
spilled out in sloppy sentences and sentiments,
used to be someone who could 'sit at a typewriter and bleed'
and in bleeding turn the hurt beautiful.
i used to close my eyes and fall into feeling,
trace the right word
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© 2015 - 2024 sairey
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