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Literature Text
She is a musician.
Pale grey eyes that are half closed and blood shot most of the time.
Crimson colored hair, the kind you can only get out of a box, sways down to her frail hips,
But the incognito blonde peeks out at the roots.
She leans her skinny body against the cold brick wall like it's Home Base in a game of tag.
A cigarette hangs from her lips, a violin from her fingers.
They're melancholy tunes that she pulls from those strings,
But they harmonize with the clatter of coins being tossed in a jar.
They watch her like she's an angel.
They hear her like she's a prayer.
She sings about money, and love, and other seemingly empty things.
And when they ask her if she is trying to save the world she speaks,
"Why should I?
When has the world ever saved me?"
Literature
Her Wings
She may be broken.
But her wings won't ever die.
Through her pain she flies.
Literature
my ghost.
i want to breathe
into you; force the oxygen
past your lips and into your
lungs and i want to make you
alive and real and touchable
again.
.
i wake up screaming
with your breath on my face,
like dirty dewdrops on grass.
.
you always smell like
death, why is this?
i said you are my life; that
you should smell like life
and spices and blueberries and
lilies. you said no, sweetie, im
not your life, but i can be your
death.
.
we will never
have an
ending,
will we?
Literature
Stone Angels
He had tigers blood.
Poetic fingertips
that called to me
like a siren's song,
while his demonic tongue
hissed 'S h i p w r e c k e d'.
We covered ourselves in ink,
danced along jailhouse walls
under street lights, the edges
of skylines, darkened alleyways
and the parking lots of churches.
No fear,
We spoke in riddles gestures;
the quiet sweep of eyelashes;
cigarette smoke that lingered
long enough to shape heavens
within our irises while crows
rested on our shouldersperched
pecking, waiting for one to move.
As we were nothing more than
long-limb statues atop gravestones.
Suggested Collections
Come'on angel, Come'on Come'on Darlin'. Tell me we both matter,
Don't we?
Don't we?
© 2010 - 2024 hostofthemaze
Comments27
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A beautiful piece! Well done!