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Literature Text
With a single word
I can save your life
or take it away
so why do you still
refuse to hear my pleas?
Does death intrigue you
or is it that you are nothing
but a hollow shell
unable to hear
nor touch
nor smell
the beauties I offer
nor the sorrows that consume
my days and nights?
I am drowning
in the darkness
that you created
through the years
of memories forgotten
by the alcohol
so why won't you help me?
Do you not love me anymore?
Must I take it upon myself
to perform the task
father could not go through with?
I love you, mommy.
Don't you love me too?
I can save your life
or take it away
so why do you still
refuse to hear my pleas?
Does death intrigue you
or is it that you are nothing
but a hollow shell
unable to hear
nor touch
nor smell
the beauties I offer
nor the sorrows that consume
my days and nights?
I am drowning
in the darkness
that you created
through the years
of memories forgotten
by the alcohol
so why won't you help me?
Do you not love me anymore?
Must I take it upon myself
to perform the task
father could not go through with?
I love you, mommy.
Don't you love me too?
Literature
Writers and Poets
“Why are you a poet?”
“I’m not a poet.”
“You’re not?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Then what are you?”
“A word-rhymer, a heart-breaker, a word master. I could go on for a very long time, you know?”
“Oh, I know.”
“And how do you know?”
“Because I’m not a writer.”
“You’re not?”
“I’m not.”
“Then what are you?”
“I am a word slinger, a heart’s reflection, a person maker, a story teller. I can go on you, know?”
“Indeed, you are not a writer.”
Literature
Constructive Criticism
"Tell me what you think."
"Of the poem?"
"No, of my face. Yes, the poem."
"I was going to say, because your face is just stupid."
"Very funny. Read."
"..."
"What did you think?"
"Why did you write this?"
"I wrote it for you."
"For me?"
"Yes."
"You make me self conscious when you say things like that."
"I know."
"I'm not worth this you know."
"What does that mean?"
"I am half a girl, and I deserve half a poem."
"That is not true, and you still haven't told me what you really thought about it."
"It's as broken and complex and half hearted as a sad song about the way you feel ink trail between your fingers like it's blood. There
Literature
I'm Not the Marrying Kind
I'm not the marrying kind.
I have stones in my hair instead of flowers,
And a rosebush of thorns is more poignant to me.
I'm not the marrying kind.
My words aren't pretty or wise,
And I can't sing about anything but a broken heart.
I'm not the marrying kind.
I am the sort of damaged you see in an old recorder,
And the kind of old in an instrument that breaks into a billion pieces at a touch.
I'm not the marrying kind.
Neither neat, nor tidy, nor correct in my behavior,
And yes, I did in fact tell you to fuck yourself.
I'm not the marrying kind.R
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Not sure how long ago I wrote this, but I am going to put it up here anywhoo (:
© 2012 - 2024 The-writing-pony
Comments6
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I've felt this way once before. Then my mother gave me her answer one night, when the mixture of anti-depressants and rum pushed her to try and commit suicide. Luckily, my brother was there to help me stop her, since I was only 10 and couldn't stop her myself. After that night, she remembered who she was and now I can tell who she is.