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Literature Text
memories blurred
my nails painted black
throat’s a touch hoarse
hearing just out of tune
no voices in my head, what am i supposed to do
what am i supposed to feel
those days i thought so golden
so far from reach, even on tiptoe
even on tiptoe
my nails painted black
throat’s a touch hoarse
hearing just out of tune
no voices in my head, what am i supposed to do
what am i supposed to feel
those days i thought so golden
so far from reach, even on tiptoe
even on tiptoe
Literature
Untitled
You erupt in fire
When Im low u take me higher
By ur significance i must be smaller
Than a high placed thief and liar
From ur appearance i may seem quite meek
And by ur coincidences u tease me with the love I so seek
Your such a tease
By ur word my opportunities can cease
You jam urself into unpleasant places
Instead of staying in the glowing spaces
You hold my tears
You've given me taste of my deepest darkest fears You inflict pain
And u stain my soul
You are quite the tight lipped mystery to behold
By ur beauty, my mind and heart unfold
But my heart is already frozen cold
Literature
imsorryican'tstoptellingyouhowmuchiloveyou
i can keep telling you i love you every day
but every time i do, i feel like i'm simultaneously losing
pieces of my heart.
you brush it off
like i don't mean anything to you.
like i never meant anything to you.
i wonder if i'll ever mean something to you again.
you said you knew what you wanted but
i know whatever it is no longer includes me.
and i know myself; i'm weak when it comes to you so
even though i've been thinking lately about how i
wont be foolish enough to fall back
in love with you
not even all that deep down, i'm sure
that i will.
but i can't keep telling you i love you every day.
because every time i do, i'm losing mor
Literature
Mood
Stranger eyes in the windows,
Cold wind's blowing through my hair.
Summer's gone. Never returns.
And grey clouds are passing the sky.
Warriors land is deserded,
They went to the graveyard.
Tired and restless souls,
Without dreams, are waiting for silence.
Hidden tears and stiffled screams,
That's the music.
The music of lost security.
I'm holding your hands.
Try to remember
Your lips on mine.
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The repetition of the last line is effective. I hope you yourself are not as grim a the poem!