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Literature Text
it all became a heartthrob obsession
when your eyes smiled along
with the sun, too,
and my broken bones fluttered along
to my now alive again, heart-rate--
the violin strings i doubt i could play
would ring through your ears like
every thought of your fingers
running through my hair
that would never happen in this poisoned
"reality."
bone like wisps and heavy rib cages
that i will never get
to caress and fix,
no- i'm not a mechanic
but i'm damn close.
so let me write you a
river of some kind of
sad truth, a riverside woodland
where both of us see
the forest for the trees
"don't fall into the water!"
(i don't have a line of fate on my palm.
does that mean i've already met it?)
Literature
no answer still means never
i’ve been up to my knees in river since you left
and honestly the cold’s numbed everything-
even the stars have winked to hush me
though the howls keep tearing through;
i wonder
how much sadness you can fit
into a paper throat
before it dissolves.
it’s been weeks since i’ve drawn enough breath
or reached out to touch a human hand:
i think i will rot here
sandwiched between grass and sky,
the weight of maybe
crushing this chest
until it bursts.
Literature
(wherever you want me)
half of my heart
is hurting
because
half of my heart
is hurting
but I remain
quite certain
of
where I want
to be
Literature
A burden, curse
I’m coming back from a few rough months, and here is my first offering. A piece about my bipolar and anxiety disorder.
She cursed herself silently, like
a prayer that can only be said
in the shadows, without other
people hearing—“fuck you, you've
wasted everything, let down
everyone, you deserve this.”
Like this, she doesn’t condemn
herself, she burns for herself,
lights her skeleton on fire, ignites
her mind with the what ifs and
should have beens, all of it.
She is standing, resolute, feet
apart, a sure stance, she is sure
to break down, her elbows will
crush at the weight of all her
inhibitions, her lungs wil
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i really shouldn't waste my words on a boy who's too hard to understand.
but that's love, dear.
"everything that drowns me makes me want to fly."
© 2013 - 2024 oliviacolomar
Comments1
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Props. That's really good. I like your work a lot.