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Literature Text
What fun to be such a lost creature.
Fun. Yeah. As if.
Nature is lost in me.
All around me people go uh, uh, uh.
And I seem to be passed around
For free. Fake. I am all fake to their eyes.
Not how I look. But for what I am.
Introvert is a dirty word. Has become.
They tell me I was pretty once…and -oh- how I changed.
All is lost.
Nature doesn’t have me in her angry grip.
I won’t follow the mating call.
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
sleepy
I WANT TO GET DRUNK
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
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you'r mobile phone was asking me
where the hell I was to trespass this fun.
i don't cry.
no i'm not choking for life.
i fell asleep.
where the hell I was to trespass this fun.
i don't cry.
no i'm not choking for life.
i fell asleep.
© 2014 - 2024 frightenthelittlesin
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