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Literature Text
I am
a battlefield
on a fault line-
desire on my tongue
and indecision
stuck between my teeth
-what words will my breath carry
when the land buckles
and parts?
a battlefield
on a fault line-
desire on my tongue
and indecision
stuck between my teeth
-what words will my breath carry
when the land buckles
and parts?
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Literature
Lost War
Powerless
Aganist this madness
I keep fighting
No matter what the cost
Without realizing
The war is already lost
Literature
An End, Once and For All
I
This is me listening for a ghost
with wildfire-wide eyes on a Tuesday at two a.m.
spiking eagerness with anxious osmosis;
I petition for an identity from a circuit court.
II
This is me listening for the ghost of Ariana Nicole David,
who existed solely in the womb and pride of my mother.
Mom says, with renewed vigorous rigor mortis,
she wanted Ariana enough for her to exist
without ultrasound proof.
Nicholas Aaron Swaner was born on April 17th, 1993
without a father's signature or surname;
Nicholas was born with a father's doubt.
There is a letter to write to Nicholas' father
and his father still hasn't written it yet.
There is someon
Literature
on salting the field and winning the war
the phone rings again; pick it up.
today, the boss asked her when you're
coming back to work. she says she doesn't know
when the last time you got out of your house was.
you're not sure either. not all pain is fleeting.
not all pain is bright and hot. sometimes, it's
just decay.
through the phone, she talks like the sun filtering through
newborn leaves. she is miles and miles away from
the hurricane that is battering your shoreline.
she wants to know when you'll be able to look her in
the eye again. 'the boss is thinking of giving away your job,'
she says. 'when will you be over this?'
you don't know what you should tell her.
'did you know
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you see those bleeding soldiers? they're the warriors of my heart
© 2014 - 2024 daybreaksmiles
Comments17
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Beautiful poem!