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Literature Text
she was the kind of girl that filled her
chest cavity with stars and her mind with names,
never one to forget her friends of the sky.
she doodled comets and planets in the margins of her papers
where hearts with arrows and initials should have been.
rockets boosted her dreams into the sky, and
she insisted the martians take teeth from under her pillow, not fairies.
she hoarded her chuck e cheese tickets,
even went as far as to dig them out of couch cushions
in order to fill her night sky with glow-in-the-dark stars
so her friends would never leave her even when
mommy and daddy forgot to tuck her in.
sleepless nights were spent at the window with
her battered old astronomy book, teaching
herself to read with polaris and sigma octantis.
by high school, she was as distant as her life-long friends,
already burnt out, just leaving after-images in the sky.
stardust floated out of her ears,
and dark matter clouded her eyes.
nebulous thoughts wafted from her mouth,
catching on the breeze and scattering to the hills.
it was no wonder that the moonlight caught her eyes before the headlights could.
Literature
phantoms from a sleepless mind
most nights,
it takes a war to close
my eyes, & even then i
still see monsters.
my mind is a cemetery
full of whispers
best not mentioned
(because you'd never
believe me if i told you).
i just want to be free.
to wake up with a
craving for sunshine &
supernovas nestled in my
rib cage, instead of thorns
beneath my skin & bones
between my teeth.
Literature
Polaris
This night
is black, like a
crow;
and as a hand-print
bleeds against
fogged glass,
she calls to you—
an echo of
what once was.
Haunted by
a half-truth, back-
alley eidolon,
this night
is too dark to
guide you home.
Literature
Fathomless
i.
Her pale sea-foam dress swirls around bone white knees, caught in an endless maelstrom. It is fashioned from the salted tears of a thousand forsaken sailors and beaded together with stolen pearlstaken from the darkness of the sea's deepest chasms and hidden, suffocating cavernsand seems to undulate with nothing less than the utterly formidable wrath of Poseidon himself.
She is as indisputably unfathomable as the ocean itself, with mottled blue lips, eyelashes laced with droplets of brine and damp hair that twists in limp rivulets down her back. When the curling wind brushes that seaweed hair to the side, it reveals
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approved by the cat in the dresser.
i'm not too sure about this piece myself though.
i'm not too sure about this piece myself though.
© 2012 - 2024 mismatched-misfits
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I normally really hate poetry but all your stuff is simply fantastic!!!!