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Literature Text
we were as broken as they come,
a ball-joint doll with no joints and a sailboat without any sails.
you had places to be and worlds to see.
all i wanted was to sit on your deck
and have a single place to rest
while the world changed around me.
but the winds came
and i was thrown to the arsenic waves.
you said you never stopped searching,
but you never sent out the lifeboats either.
a ball-joint doll with no joints and a sailboat without any sails.
you had places to be and worlds to see.
all i wanted was to sit on your deck
and have a single place to rest
while the world changed around me.
but the winds came
and i was thrown to the arsenic waves.
you said you never stopped searching,
but you never sent out the lifeboats either.
Literature
Untitled
There was something of the night, she would say, which had always frightened her.
It wasn't the moonless shadows or the strange prolixity of sounds, but the way the skyline would shatter just beyond the city's crest, as if proving to her childish mind that nothing is truly limitless. Not even the sky.
Literature
Born
In the beginning,
Where do we begin?
In our minds, we progress
In our bodes, we digress
In our heart, to learn
What is right, we discern.
But what of it, forewarned,
In its nascent form
The inability to infer
Just why it differs?
No one can comprehend
Or pay with amends;
The prize of destiny-
A life of bigotry
A hateful word to confess
And they couldn't care less
For the reason it was condemned
For there was no one to defend
That it was just created that way,
But that's not what they say
They knew when it was born,
And adorned it with scorn,
A liar
Literature
hold this against me.
i extend my arm and trace
lonely roads along my veins
that disappear like
highways in the night.
i shake my bottle of light
beer that i can't even stand
the taste of but drink
anyway because i refuse to
let myself have anything
stronger,
and i think about that bridge
across from my college, over
the ravine, and how much i
want to fly.
"oh, that rebecca," they'll
say, "she was a scholarly girl.
believed in the impossible. set
her goals sky high."
that's me—the idealistic one,
the naive one, the one who
chases what she knows she
cannot have.
i set the bottle down,
draw my legs up, tuck my
arms into the crook between
them and
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i can't stop listening to The Antlers' narrative album "Hospice."
it's one of my favorite collections of songs,
but it always makes me wonder whether i'm someone's sylvia
or just the narrator.
it's one of my favorite collections of songs,
but it always makes me wonder whether i'm someone's sylvia
or just the narrator.
© 2013 - 2024 mismatched-misfits
Comments2
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"Hospice" is a beautiful album. if you enjoy The Antlers, i highly recommend Lydia.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q3mFaW… (newest album Devil)
www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zb_Wh… (second album Illuminate)
www.youtube.com/watch?v=lVReu9… (first album December)
the lyrics in their older songs are a little difficult to hear at times, but they're some of the most beautiful.
(sorry for the music spam; wonderful poem).