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Literature Text
the dissonance in the spaces
between your breath and the rain
reminds me of the syndromes
that plague your malicious frame
your fingernails are painted
with the drugs that you have tried
the inability to make choices
the senseless wanting of your lies
and everytime you play for me
your fingers on the ivory keys
i think of the bones you've broken
the vicious satisfaction of your needs
between your breath and the rain
reminds me of the syndromes
that plague your malicious frame
your fingernails are painted
with the drugs that you have tried
the inability to make choices
the senseless wanting of your lies
and everytime you play for me
your fingers on the ivory keys
i think of the bones you've broken
the vicious satisfaction of your needs
Literature
still,
"i want grandchildren."
that car ride ruined some things
threw a wine bottle at the wall
15 years sitting
it was good enough or
it wasn't good enough
all the silence forced
my pride to jump out the window
if any rested in her
she showed it off like a speech bubble
tied it to her teeth
slammed it in the door
had it under her pillow for months
and years and years and years
there was no statement
there was no outstretched hand
just steering wheel clenching
knuckles white and jaw taut
(all because who i bed was not her mindful of
timeline perfection)
i still think i'm a tumor
--
she shows it off like a speeding ticket
i
Literature
I Mean to Get You Alone
You have sharp
pulse-elevating teeth
the stuff I imagine heart attacks
are made of
I'm bent on selling you a handful of smiles
specifically crafted
to distract you from the fact that
I have almost nothing to say
and now you're steering this conversation
in a direction that suggests you've
forgotten that I
don't watch movies or do much of
anything but work which maybe
explains why one glass of wine gets me
wrapped around you
car to streetlight
crash style
mangled limbs
breeding curious onlookers and my insurance has
expired
you're leaning in and all I can think is
I don't have insurance
Literature
18.07.12
Max had waited for this moment since the day he’d been first activated. So what if the Council had subsequently determined that his model was too unstable for actual combat and repurposed them as crossing guards. Max had been created to be a hero, and no amount of reprogramming was going to stand in his way.
Granted, his first two attempts hadn’t gone exactly as planned. There was no one to actually save in the first fire he set. He made sure there were at least five in the second, but some dumb X9 model had beaten him to it and got all the credit. Not this time, though. This time had been perfect. Plenty of heartstri
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I must be so sick.
© 2011 - 2024 em-arginated
Comments3
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i must digress,
you have hit the nail on the head for how i see myself.
love warps everything and creates something foul in me.
this deserves a favourite, indeed
you have hit the nail on the head for how i see myself.
love warps everything and creates something foul in me.
this deserves a favourite, indeed