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Literature Text
The arrow
in my heart,
Anchors me...
To her memory.
To move on
Would be to
leave..
my heart behind
in my heart,
Anchors me...
To her memory.
To move on
Would be to
leave..
my heart behind
Literature
aches
my body twitches chest cracks cracks
eyes water wrists rolls shoulders fall in tense up
please is not enough
you will not understand any better than i do
why this place smashes a hole under my ribs every passing day
bars my arms in
and nothing is enough but
leaving
is impossible
Literature
boo !
the smell of ice
and vampire bites
thrill is in the air
fright night –
flashing sights ,
blurred lights &
candy so bright .
the scare of a clown
when no one's around ,
terror abounds
in cul-de-sacs of sound .
run run run
the shrieking rattle of death's bony fingers –
oh my God !
never mind , just a Grim Reaper .
& at 3 a.m. , when
the cycles begin again —
you know you've found
the thrill in the sound
of
"Happy Halloween!"
Literature
Hide and Seek
"One...Two..."
I tried to find a place to hide. I crawled under a table and looked around my area. Good thing I'm not claustrophobic.
"Ten! Here I come!"
Little socked feet run out from the back room. I see her look around the room and run into another. I cough as a hint. She flips around and yells, "FOUND YOU!"
Then I'm counting. I count to ten and run to find her. I can't find her.
Then I turn around and see her on her bed asleep. I put a blanket over her and put on my gear to go outside in the snow.
"What are you doing?" I hear her voice say behind me.
"Go back to sleep. I'm going outside."
"Okay..." then she wanders back to her room.
I
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© 2015 - 2024 srinath-ste-v
Comments20
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I like this work. It's simple message. How we are tied to our loves, beyond the time we are together. To move on and forget... easy for some. I find it more tragic than the loss, that the love can be so easily forgotten. It's an insult to the feeling, to the promises made. Truly to forget the hurt is to forget the joy as well, to deny the person you've become because of loving at all. Maybe not so much an anchor as a tether, a connection. Forever etched upon me, connected to, but not hindered by past loves. We are of greater strength and character for it all, though the transitions are hard when we are unwilling or unready for love to leave.