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Literature Text
d,
I miss the cigarette smoke, hanging in the air like thick curtains, making us coughhackchoke until we were weak.
I remember how you’d hold me almost too close and tell me that you would never leave, that God himself couldn’t force you away from me. I just grinned and blasted rock music, inviting the rhythm to jolt through our veins and put our pulse back on track.
beat. beat. beat.
the music couldn’t save you the day God did come, when your hearts rhythm died and the throbbing in your chest slowed.
(knowing you, the admission into heaven wasn’t exactly an easy one, but if there is a heaven, I know you’d be there.)
j,
summer days were always our time.
the smell of dirt and adrenaline filled our noses, greengreengrass staining our knees, our ankles, our elbows. you touched me a bit too hard and every finger brought a bruise, blemishes beneath the skin breaking out in shades of yellow and purple, like tie-dye streaking across my skin. but that was okay with me, because every second pressed into you brought static to the air and fireworks to our eyes.
I remember how you turned the colour of a sunset (red smears, pink undertones) when at the end of august I could run across the yard faster than you. but now that I think of it, you always excelled in wrestling/fighting, when I was always best at running/hiding.
(you were my definition of childhood.)
r,
you broke me from the very start.
hazel eyes held nothing but false realities, and the warmth in your hands would never last. you were the fire, I was the house. your beauty burned out all too soon, but you made sure you brought me, and everything around me, down with you.
(you burned my eyes, but I still wanted your lips.)
n,
we’ve faded out, like different satellites travelling to far-off planets, hues of lavender and navy blurring our vision. we’re unable to see ourselves clearly, unable to figure out just what we’re missing, just what we each used to have that’s left us so empty.
it’s eachother.
it’s eachother.
it’s eachother.
(but all we can see are the stars.)
b,
we were a shaking, gasping mess. limbs tangled in bedsheets, souls colliding with every heartbeat. we were neon splashes across a normally back sky, comets destined to fall.
maybe it was the fact that you were always the one to make my heart explode, to self destruct in a pool of pain and pleasure. and I swear, each and every time it felt like I was dying, like the oxygen would turn to carbon dioxide before I could remember how to exhale.
‘I love you’ – you whispered secrets into my shoulder blades and wrote in marker on my wrists. but eventually you lost your voice, and in time the ink faded. all it took was one final thunderstorm, and we were completely washed away.
(we could never find ink permanent enough. but I suppose it’s not your fault that no markers guarantee ‘forever’.)
--
I miss the cigarette smoke, hanging in the air like thick curtains, making us coughhackchoke until we were weak.
I remember how you’d hold me almost too close and tell me that you would never leave, that God himself couldn’t force you away from me. I just grinned and blasted rock music, inviting the rhythm to jolt through our veins and put our pulse back on track.
beat. beat. beat.
the music couldn’t save you the day God did come, when your hearts rhythm died and the throbbing in your chest slowed.
(knowing you, the admission into heaven wasn’t exactly an easy one, but if there is a heaven, I know you’d be there.)
j,
summer days were always our time.
the smell of dirt and adrenaline filled our noses, greengreengrass staining our knees, our ankles, our elbows. you touched me a bit too hard and every finger brought a bruise, blemishes beneath the skin breaking out in shades of yellow and purple, like tie-dye streaking across my skin. but that was okay with me, because every second pressed into you brought static to the air and fireworks to our eyes.
I remember how you turned the colour of a sunset (red smears, pink undertones) when at the end of august I could run across the yard faster than you. but now that I think of it, you always excelled in wrestling/fighting, when I was always best at running/hiding.
(you were my definition of childhood.)
r,
you broke me from the very start.
hazel eyes held nothing but false realities, and the warmth in your hands would never last. you were the fire, I was the house. your beauty burned out all too soon, but you made sure you brought me, and everything around me, down with you.
(you burned my eyes, but I still wanted your lips.)
n,
we’ve faded out, like different satellites travelling to far-off planets, hues of lavender and navy blurring our vision. we’re unable to see ourselves clearly, unable to figure out just what we’re missing, just what we each used to have that’s left us so empty.
it’s eachother.
it’s eachother.
it’s eachother.
(but all we can see are the stars.)
b,
we were a shaking, gasping mess. limbs tangled in bedsheets, souls colliding with every heartbeat. we were neon splashes across a normally back sky, comets destined to fall.
maybe it was the fact that you were always the one to make my heart explode, to self destruct in a pool of pain and pleasure. and I swear, each and every time it felt like I was dying, like the oxygen would turn to carbon dioxide before I could remember how to exhale.
‘I love you’ – you whispered secrets into my shoulder blades and wrote in marker on my wrists. but eventually you lost your voice, and in time the ink faded. all it took was one final thunderstorm, and we were completely washed away.
(we could never find ink permanent enough. but I suppose it’s not your fault that no markers guarantee ‘forever’.)
--
Literature
never know
it's been a week since you called.
last time, we talked for four and a half hours and barely at all did you mention her. you mentioned me though. you laughed at the things i said like you always used to and you said you hadn't slept since we last talked, and at the back of my head i hoped maybe you fell in love with me again. but i don't bet on it.
last night, you were in a dream i had. you smiled at me and you looked beautiful in the snow. you held my hand and it was warm. my hands are so cold now, you don't know. i almost felt like crying when i woke up. but then, then my phone rang and it was you. and you asked why i was still sleeping a
Literature
fair grading.
rain rain you went away
come back and flush me down the drain.
i sat in the middle of the road and my mind's in a drought
i've got the carcasses of words baking in harsh artificial light within me.
[i slur my words, but don't think it's because i've been drinking
i just don't know how to bring myself to say anything to you.]
-
we're walking down the street, puddles lit by street lights.
there are rainbows in the cement cracks, and your words are sparkling with magic.
'this is where dreams live,' you tell me.
'this is where dreams live.'
[if this is a dream, then i must be snow white, and not even your kiss can wake me up.]
-
twin
Literature
all apologies my dear.
i met a girl
from
england today, she
said i disgusted
her with
every
form of the
word.
[including the ones we don't believe in.]
i once thought
i could walk
on
top of
rooftops and sprinkle
happiness to
all the cities
below me.
[until you told me there was no happiness left for them.]
i swore we
would
could, should and had the strength
to change the world
even if only
for the worse
we
would still leave our mark.
[no matter how long it took to decide on a topic.]
Suggested Collections
[I should've sprung for a tattoo.]
this is 100% non-fiction.
as you can likely tell, I'm rusty at writing prose, and I'll probably come back and edit this. but I've wanted to write something like this for the longest time.
I suppose it is inspired by *Miss-Deathwish's amazing piece, and therefore dedicated to her.
dear Bailey,
I think everything you do is gorgeous.
--
this is 100% non-fiction.
as you can likely tell, I'm rusty at writing prose, and I'll probably come back and edit this. but I've wanted to write something like this for the longest time.
I suppose it is inspired by *Miss-Deathwish's amazing piece, and therefore dedicated to her.
dear Bailey,
I think everything you do is gorgeous.
--
Comments39
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we’ve faded out, like different satellites travelling to far-off planets, hues of lavender and navy blurring our vision. we’re unable to see ourselves clearly, unable to figure out just what we’re missing, just what we each used to have that’s left us so empty.
it’s eachother.
it’s eachother.
it’s eachother.
(but all we can see are the stars.)
That. Is just perfect.
it’s eachother.
it’s eachother.
it’s eachother.
(but all we can see are the stars.)
That. Is just perfect.