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Literature Text
i took a nap this afternoon
and thought that
i was playing footsies
with someone.
and i never turned to see
who the person was.
i only saw the back of her head
so it could've been a walking fish
with a wig and a headdress.
well, she, assuming--
was wearing a mantle
and blue jeans
with long hair.
but i don't understand
what this thing even means
except maybe
i should've taken my socks off
before i went to sleep?
and thought that
i was playing footsies
with someone.
and i never turned to see
who the person was.
i only saw the back of her head
so it could've been a walking fish
with a wig and a headdress.
well, she, assuming--
was wearing a mantle
and blue jeans
with long hair.
but i don't understand
what this thing even means
except maybe
i should've taken my socks off
before i went to sleep?
Literature
eight times I fell in love with him
un
I fell in love
sitting on a cliff
overlooking my whole town,
all the buildings below
shining like little pastel boxes
in the late afternoon light.
beneath late-october leaves
he guided me gently
into my first kiss
like he was directing
water-starved flowers to a rainstorm.
when our lips at last brushed,
I felt him smile against my mouth
almost secretly,
as if he were surprised by his own happiness,
and I knew I'd found a heart
that would play well with my own.
deux
in the pouring rain,
he walked beside me
with his nice blue collared shirt
held high above us
as a makeshift umbrella.
I held him around the waist
and he kissed me twice
wit
Literature
a situation in which i do not survive
i was a lake whipped
into a fever pitch, a localised
hurricane in the wake of something
greater. the world was ending
and i dreamt of you while it was
still turning, a mess of bodies and
kisses. i dreamt of you still
when it ended, a slow dance
of crooked smiles and offshore
eyes. you kept me close and if
i was ever a source of happiness
or preoccupation
or horror
for you, i could let go.
Literature
if i hadn't had the drunk luck to meet you
i’d have married every bedside witch from here to east dallas
i’d have glistened like a worm to their mescaline psalms
i’d have mired in sinuous wineskin, repentant spectra
i’d Om along in cooing groups, babble with freethinkers
all my endeavors would be gas station derelicts
all of my wrongs would be quasi-continuous
even the over-sought moon would protest
and i wouldn’t recognize one half of the universe
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have you ever met that person who uses humor as a defense mechanism to avoid vulnerabilities?
yeah, i'm not that guy, i'm too depressing to be funny. (oh, wait. self-deprecation is a thing. still doesn't count.)
i didn't even wear socks when i took a nap today.
good days at school, for some reason,
equate to bad nights after.
and i wish i was still in school.
what is wrong with me?
(i'm just lonely)
yeah, i'm not that guy, i'm too depressing to be funny. (oh, wait. self-deprecation is a thing. still doesn't count.)
i didn't even wear socks when i took a nap today.
good days at school, for some reason,
equate to bad nights after.
and i wish i was still in school.
what is wrong with me?
(i'm just lonely)
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Comments30
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I'm funny regardless...fuck depression, been there done that