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Literature Text
I like to think that over this past year you've come to understand
that my heart is a cratered sun
and my veins make up constellations across my vulnerable vertebrae,
because when I close my eyes,
it's you that my subconscious summons as I sleep,
There's just something about you that completely electrifies my skin,
your touch draws conclusions between the freckles on my forearms
and I'm left wondering how you even connected the dots,
But you make me nervous in a young kind of way
and there's this fragile sense of longing that I'm not quite sure i understand,
although tonight I could feel your laugh settle between my palms like a lost lamb
and for a moment I let your innocence brush over my fingertips
and it felt like that moment was ours and ours alone,
So let's hold onto railroads
like we're about to be run over,
and let's hold onto candles
until our waxen limbs burn down to the wick,
and let's hold onto each other
while the stars drip down over our shoulders to melt away our sins.
that my heart is a cratered sun
and my veins make up constellations across my vulnerable vertebrae,
because when I close my eyes,
it's you that my subconscious summons as I sleep,
There's just something about you that completely electrifies my skin,
your touch draws conclusions between the freckles on my forearms
and I'm left wondering how you even connected the dots,
But you make me nervous in a young kind of way
and there's this fragile sense of longing that I'm not quite sure i understand,
although tonight I could feel your laugh settle between my palms like a lost lamb
and for a moment I let your innocence brush over my fingertips
and it felt like that moment was ours and ours alone,
So let's hold onto railroads
like we're about to be run over,
and let's hold onto candles
until our waxen limbs burn down to the wick,
and let's hold onto each other
while the stars drip down over our shoulders to melt away our sins.
Literature
In the pretext of sleep
In the pretext of sleep, my mind wanders even though I am physically exhausted. I can feel the dull ache of my tiring body slowly cooling down and relaxing. Surely, my conscious realizes that it’s time to be resting my body. The second this thought of rest arrives, it is rudely interrupted by the overwhelming thoughts of the wandering mind. I can feel my thoughts ranging from the tiniest of incidents that happened throughout the day, to my deepest insecurities. The worst part about this entire charade is that its intensity gets more when I’m the most spent physically. I guess its just a part and parcel of being an introverted over
Literature
+ Session
Crawling through our skin
Not just a little paper cut
It’s an opening to a higher voltage
To habits we can’t break any longer
While we try to find a cure from the inside
A cure for something itching across our skin
Don’t runaway another day
I never meant it when I said, “Don’t stay”
Please don’t let us become forgotten
It won’t be a part of me that can’t take that
My entire being would succumb to numbness
The foreword to my eulogy, “In the end…”
After that very first night
Lying away from you tore me apart
But after a while
Whenever I was with you
You’d start pus
Literature
Waking Up
~Of the Dark
“Are you dreaming?” A small voice asked her.
“I do not think so…” She would reply.
“But how can you tell?” The small voice would ask again.
“Because I have never been asleep!” She would say with confidence.
“Are you sure that, instead, you have never been awake?” The voice would say, shattering her confidence. And neither would speak, letting silence chase darkness for an eternity.
“Are you having a nightmare?” She would ask the voice.
“I think that i am…” The voice would reply.
“But how can you be sure?” She asked o
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vulnerable: capable of or susceptible to being wounded or hurt
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Wow. That was Beautiful. I love the imagery you used and the way you randomly connected all your different themes. This is genious. 