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Literature Text
She used to lie awake all night
consuming letters with voracity;
it was the utopian lair she created
to slip away from the turbulent world.
Only too soon she learned
that you can't always hide
within parchment crevices.
(reality always finds you)
Even now, when she yearns to fall between printed canyons,
she can't help but curse those passive and lethargic days;
"It's too damn easy to fall in love with words on a page."
consuming letters with voracity;
it was the utopian lair she created
to slip away from the turbulent world.
Only too soon she learned
that you can't always hide
within parchment crevices.
(reality always finds you)
Even now, when she yearns to fall between printed canyons,
she can't help but curse those passive and lethargic days;
"It's too damn easy to fall in love with words on a page."
Literature
In my head...
In my head,
The birds that fly above me
Are the dragons of my kingdom.
In my head,
Cats and dogs are lions and wolves,
And my fish is a sea monster.
In my head,
My pen is a sword,
And I’m fighting witches and evil men
To find my prince charming.
In my head,
Butterflies spin through the air
And fly through my bedroom windows
To whisper things in a language
That only I understand.
In my head,
There is a world other than
These black and white dreams
And these faded grey skies.
In my head,
There is a universe.
Can’t you see it, too?
Literature
Living With A Lie
You sit there shaking; emotionally frozen.
You check the time on your watch, despite knowing it already.
The ever-present numbness, the cold feeling which clutches at your soul;
That is what you feel upon the dawn of the lie.
To know its nature, to know its being;
To have it spill upon your awareness.
What words would surmise such a bitter feeling:
Betrayal, grief?
Perhaps the use of dejection, pain and sorrow?
All of which might be considered appropriate, given the circumstances...
Absent-minded, you reach for a pack of cigarettes,
Forgetting that you kicked the habit a few years back.
You thumb the screen of your ever-present smartph
Literature
Without the Individual
Without the Individual
Can you imagine a world, directed by a single mind?
A collective conscious, a living hive.
Each time we are born, we receive a part of it
And when we return, we share in the pool.
There would be no fear of death;
No fear of the unknown…
For a thousand souls would bolster our hearts.
We could live—truly LIVE—to the fullest extent of our capabilities.
And when we succeed?
That success returns to the hive…
That success can be shared across the next generation.
We would become an ever-evolving organism.
One with a thousand faces, but a single driving purpose.
Can you even imagine how that woul
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I really do both yearn for and hate those childish days.
It was so damn easy to forget that I would have to grow up at some point.
(Seriously guys, I need to stop writing this shit when I feel sorry for myself and actually DO SOMETHING TO MAKE IT BETTER. But for now, just deal with my sporadic-ness.)
It was so damn easy to forget that I would have to grow up at some point.
(Seriously guys, I need to stop writing this shit when I feel sorry for myself and actually DO SOMETHING TO MAKE IT BETTER. But for now, just deal with my sporadic-ness.)
© 2013 - 2024 lupus-astra
Comments35
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So what, are you reading my mind now?
Because that's exactly how I feel every time I read a really good piece of literature. Sometimes if it's really good, I'll literally feel the same chemical reactions I get when I have a crush. And don't even get me started on the description.
I mean it's totally cool if you are reading my mind; just ask first >.>
Because that's exactly how I feel every time I read a really good piece of literature. Sometimes if it's really good, I'll literally feel the same chemical reactions I get when I have a crush. And don't even get me started on the description.
I mean it's totally cool if you are reading my mind; just ask first >.>