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Literature Text
He claimed to be a man of space and time
I shook my head in wonder
Flashing a smile he asks
“What would you like to see, my dear?”
My eyes widen
To think that just a press of a few buttons
We could travel anywhere, anytime
Starry-eyed in awestruck I answered
“Let’s go to the place where our hearts belong”
I shook my head in wonder
Flashing a smile he asks
“What would you like to see, my dear?”
My eyes widen
To think that just a press of a few buttons
We could travel anywhere, anytime
Starry-eyed in awestruck I answered
“Let’s go to the place where our hearts belong”
Literature
To be honest
This pain is like dumping water into empty lungs and trying to have faith that it is air.
Painting the Mona Lisa in the dark, blindfolded, seems more feasible.
This mind shakes at the soft, pattering quiet that whispers nothing is worth being happy: rears its head on the best days.
"Hopeless"
is the
vicious
heartbeat mantra
-tied to my translucent pulse.
Choking on droplets and begging the water to birth oxygen.
Slowly drowning, praying the whole damn ocean will swallow me
if it's not going to let go.
Literature
Does it even matter now ?
"Say, does it really matter now?" A voice that always haunt me,
"I don't know...Why do you always ask?" I questioned back like always.
"Don't you think, you should just give up on trying? Isn't it just hurting you?" That voice continues,
"It is, but I don't want to be alone." I answered hesitantly.
"Isn't being alone better than letting them treat you as a tool than as a friend?" The voice argued back.
I remained silent and became more and more hesitant on my choices.
"Does it really matter, why not just throw away your care?" The voice said sadly,
"Why not just throw it all away, so it won't hurt. Why not just give it up and be yoursel
Literature
Never Far
The facade is unmistakable. That tree, those curtains, the sticker in the window of a firefighter saving a little girl...
There's kids playing in the living room.
My kids.
My face is pressed against the windows, ears straining to hear their laughter through the glass. A shadow in the kitchen moves. The children make their way into the basement and I slip into the house. Now my ears register the laughter floating up from the playroom like balloons let go at a carnival.
There is clanging in the kitchen and my wife--Julia, my sweet, beautiful Julia--yells that dinner is ready. I follow the children into the kitchen and sit at my normal seat. Th
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Damn quick but deep