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Literature Text
i am somebody different now,
somebody stained with saltwater and cynicism,
so different from the girl you loved.
i am worlds and worlds apart from you,
no longer full of beautiful words and easy laughter,
no longer able to be the light on your darker days.
i try and i try but i cannot be the one i was,
do not even know where to find her.
i have gone backward in time,
unable to function, unable to breathe,
wishing for your fingers between mine
unable to make our worlds realign.
i can't remember how your kisses taste anymore.
somebody stained with saltwater and cynicism,
so different from the girl you loved.
i am worlds and worlds apart from you,
no longer full of beautiful words and easy laughter,
no longer able to be the light on your darker days.
i try and i try but i cannot be the one i was,
do not even know where to find her.
i have gone backward in time,
unable to function, unable to breathe,
wishing for your fingers between mine
unable to make our worlds realign.
i can't remember how your kisses taste anymore.
Literature
Paper-Thin Promises
the first time I caught sight of your
glistening, marble eyes,
I decided you disgust me.
I hate you the way I hate perfection:
merciless, like the snap of mantis jaws.
every fact of you is pretentious,
held high like you raise a middle finger.
You, the artist, always sculpting things,
tried to squeeze my malleable heart like white clay
and stash it in your pocket to rattle with stones.
paint me an unflinching self portrait, my dear:
this skyscraper of a boy shaking with anticipation
to build and destroy, build and destroy.
you sink in tooth and talon at first mention of beauty,
love-biting Aphrodite as though you were equals.
you're a statu
Literature
welcome to the real world
1. if someone invites you back to their place
for coffee, and you only drink tea,
don’t stress:
you probably won’t actually be drinking coffee.
2. when the creepy guy from work asks you out
again and you think about accepting for the first
time because you’re sick of going home alone and
you have never learned how to say no, don’t. learn.
stand in front of the mirror until you love yourself
enough for your skin to fit snug on your body. read
about the hundreds of millions of planets out in the
hundreds of millions of galaxies and feel so crowded
that you’re about to burst all over again.
3. you’re gonna
Literature
Summer Love
When I was eight I hated summer
It was juice-box sticky
and every day I scraped myself
off my sheets
and poured my body into a glass.
At twenty-two,
I don't remember peeling my legs
off a wooden chair come June,
but how our hands were damp with nerves
when we held them,
how the AC on the bus was too much
so my scarf became your blanket and
we ate curry with my parents
before I fell asleep on your shoulder.
Or when you told me not to swim too far out
and the ocean was too cold,
how you got sunburned and I bit my tongue
so hard holding back
"I told you so"
that I swear I bled,
your eyes reflecting the fish at the aquarium,
how you teased
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your stuff is so beautiful