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Literature Text
I'm afraid to open this book,
to start this story.
For once I'm unsure of how it all will end.
I grow weary of being mislead
and falling for characters that never make the final page.
Misconceived and thrown aside,
the pages all unfold with no remorse.
Steadily falling away faster and faster
with no one there to make it stop.
He came along with such sweetness
and an interesting line,
but was unobtainable and left the tale much too soon.
I waited, hoping he'd be written back in
and when he was I held my breath.
I'd never imagined someone so endearing and beautiful.
It was almost like his soul shown through the pages,
burning so brightly my eyes would water at every word.
His world quickly became the only place I wanted to be,
I read everyday.
I grew afraid of sharing myself with this character,
he was much too important to lose.
Surely if I left myself unguarded
he'd disappear at the end of the next chapter,
at the end of the page.
I saw the ending coming closer now,
but still not knowing the conclusion.
How would it end?
I grew mad with curiosity.
Impatient and frightened all at once for the same thing.
I knew I loved him but was unaware that I decided his fate.
Could I trust myself to see this to the end,
to finish this book and know
if he was capable of not letting me down.
That maybe he was able to redeem what little faith I had in fiction.
That perhaps it wasn't fiction at all.
Maybe, someone could love me
and it not be a fairy tale.
to start this story.
For once I'm unsure of how it all will end.
I grow weary of being mislead
and falling for characters that never make the final page.
Misconceived and thrown aside,
the pages all unfold with no remorse.
Steadily falling away faster and faster
with no one there to make it stop.
He came along with such sweetness
and an interesting line,
but was unobtainable and left the tale much too soon.
I waited, hoping he'd be written back in
and when he was I held my breath.
I'd never imagined someone so endearing and beautiful.
It was almost like his soul shown through the pages,
burning so brightly my eyes would water at every word.
His world quickly became the only place I wanted to be,
I read everyday.
I grew afraid of sharing myself with this character,
he was much too important to lose.
Surely if I left myself unguarded
he'd disappear at the end of the next chapter,
at the end of the page.
I saw the ending coming closer now,
but still not knowing the conclusion.
How would it end?
I grew mad with curiosity.
Impatient and frightened all at once for the same thing.
I knew I loved him but was unaware that I decided his fate.
Could I trust myself to see this to the end,
to finish this book and know
if he was capable of not letting me down.
That maybe he was able to redeem what little faith I had in fiction.
That perhaps it wasn't fiction at all.
Maybe, someone could love me
and it not be a fairy tale.
Literature
Silence
Silence deafens
It screams at me from blank walls so I fill them with photographs
So they’ll seem less empty, and so will I
Silence welcomes
When the world is just too loud and too chaotic and too restless
And all I want in this moment is quiet
Silence echoes
From the depths of the empty beer bottles that line my bedside table
They promised fulfillment or at least escape the night before
Silence lies
It tells me that I am not good enough for a house filled with love
The kind that comes from the heart of a man
Silence comes
The moment I lay my child’s sleepy head to rest and surround her with pillows
So that she may never know
Literature
| processing and thinking
You know when you're writing a poem and you don't like what you typed
you can hit the backspace key
and back goes the space until you are satisfied with the outcome
but what is satisfaction when just a moment ago you had something to say
and now that one key has taken it away?
But then suddenly you have something better to type
maybe worded in a better way
and you're so happy as your fingers hit the keys
your thoughts spilling out onto the page like liquid
until you read your new, revised version and the outcome is not what you expected
when the mood is not set correctly
and the expected impact of your words becomes rejected
Not only a
Literature
Into the Rain
Your presence teases me,
Makes me believe that I see you
Out of the corner of my eye,
Standing in the alleyways,
Or hiding behind bookshelves.
I see a glimpse of you,
And then you're gone,
Shoulders fading from view.
Something makes me follow,
Rush to where I saw you
And look wildly for another sign
That you're still here.
I follow you through storms,
Rain so fierce it's almost blinding,
Chasing your smile only
For you to turn away and disappear
Each time I think I've found you.
When I finally catch up with you,
Just when I can't go any further,
You're somewhere I can't reach you;
You're with people I don't know,
Perched high on a balcony,
Or
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As in most things this is about a boy. I hope he loves me like he says he does.
© 2010 - 2024 LestatMalfoy
Comments8
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I love this!
The juxtaposition of real life versus fairy tale is brilliant! The two mesh together really well.
The juxtaposition of real life versus fairy tale is brilliant! The two mesh together really well.