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Literature Text
Like then
When I was
Hoping
To fall 6 feet deep,
To pierce the
Carnivorous veil
With marrow white
Butterflies.
They would consider
“death” for a change
Think about bringing
A flower rain upon
The cat box
That was my home. Then.
It was a cave.
Litter to litter.
Freaks to maggots.
Cave people. Well –
It’s not like anything
Had changed.
I’m still stuffed up
In that living box
Quite comparable to
A shoe carton.
I simply gave up
On wishing for the great,
Great fall.
For me the breeze
Was a razor dream anyway.
For me, the cave girl.
Ordinary – how they don’t notice
That the hail is flaying them.
When I was
Hoping
To fall 6 feet deep,
To pierce the
Carnivorous veil
With marrow white
Butterflies.
They would consider
“death” for a change
Think about bringing
A flower rain upon
The cat box
That was my home. Then.
It was a cave.
Litter to litter.
Freaks to maggots.
Cave people. Well –
It’s not like anything
Had changed.
I’m still stuffed up
In that living box
Quite comparable to
A shoe carton.
I simply gave up
On wishing for the great,
Great fall.
For me the breeze
Was a razor dream anyway.
For me, the cave girl.
Ordinary – how they don’t notice
That the hail is flaying them.
Literature
Sleep
some people lament
when it comes to that moment of the day
or night
when we fall to dreams
and sleep.
"such loss of time" they say,
"i could be doing things" they cry.
but i think that dreams are an adventure too.
i can be a king in my dream,
or a queen
- a drag queen -
as bold as anything!
or a drag racer.
i can even be a bunny or a cloud or a chef.
most importantly though,
i find,
i get to not be me.
Literature
Insomnia
When sleep, like life, eludes me .......
...... life giving sleep overcomes everyone but me ....
life sapping concienceness drains me ....
My crimson shadowy wraith wakens and fills the slumber with it's grip of dark thoughts ... my mind races my soul cringes .....
The beauty of life but a twinkle in the crushing darkness of dispair ...... a flicker of light, the glimpse of a smile, the warmth of a touch ...... but a trickle .. like a single tear ....
............. the cold bitter dark, unrelenting throbbing, deafening, mindnumbing soul destroying pain!
....... like Ten thousand times Ten black holes ripping through the subatomic fibre
Literature
March of Time
March of Time
Time marches to its own sound.
Tick tock, thump thump, click boom.
In a fraction of a second everything you know and love can be gone.
Life ends and life begins but time pays no mind.
It just keeps marching to its own beat.
Tick tock, thump thump, click boom.
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