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Literature Text
I know now,
that the muffled pressure in the dark space
of your car was us screaming into the silence:
I don't really know you,
but I want to.
I want to love you.
We were so so wrong for each other.
I know now,
that the drip burn of candle wax on the back of my hand
was you saying:
It hurts.
This not-quite-fitting-together,
but wanting it so much.
I know now,
that the sound of your receding footsteps
are louder than whispered cries of:
Stay. Please.
And I know why.
I know why we were silent
when we should have screamed.
I know why we could never,
would never, fit together.
I know all of the whys,
now.
After.
that the muffled pressure in the dark space
of your car was us screaming into the silence:
I don't really know you,
but I want to.
I want to love you.
We were so so wrong for each other.
I know now,
that the drip burn of candle wax on the back of my hand
was you saying:
It hurts.
This not-quite-fitting-together,
but wanting it so much.
I know now,
that the sound of your receding footsteps
are louder than whispered cries of:
Stay. Please.
And I know why.
I know why we were silent
when we should have screamed.
I know why we could never,
would never, fit together.
I know all of the whys,
now.
After.
Literature
Eucalyptus.
i.
five bottles of light
rest on my window;
they are small,
coloured
ii.
there are stories and
stories
of sex, hidden in the
handbag;
black leather,
I could never tell
iii.
a list of ten, more
reasons to
love you;
a justification
iv.
more humid than rain;
my whole is saturated,
tired
v.
monday was lust;
tuesday boredom;
wednesday digust; and
today, I am
apathetic.
Literature
Christmas
Night was falling around Bethlehem, and the stars in the sky watched with interest a girl sneaking out of her home in the dark. They twinkled at each other, as if saying "Oh look, here she goes again", for she had been doing this ever since she had arrived when she was seven years old. Past the houses she ran, until she had left the village behind and could run openly across the meadows, her fingers dancing on the fleeces of sheep as she passed.
The girl slowed down to a careful walk as she neared a cavern. Here and there, geometrically arranged stones hinted at a long abandoned settlement. A sudden breeze sang in the grass beneath her feet,
Literature
for Mids
your photos told stories
of the adventures you've
had - oh the places you
went!
your poems, more like
rants, had your voice
boom inside my mind,
echoing.
soon after you deleted your account,
I swore I would write to you...
but I never did, not as often as
I would have liked to, anyway.
next time I go out,
I'll take pictures
of flowers and 'scapes,
just for you, my friend.
next time I write a
poem, I will remember
how your words always
were full of volume.
Suggested Collections
Um, because I couldn't help myself?
© 2016 - 2024 TheAfterWhys
Comments1
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Oh, that play on your name at the end. Brilliant!