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Literature Text
Paralized by the suffering
A shiver down my spine
Images of my past haunt me
No one can save me from this hell
A shiver down my spine
Images of my past haunt me
No one can save me from this hell
Literature
You Only Have So Much
Her fingers are dirty,
Her hair tangled.
She's a mess, some would say.
But at least her heart is pure.
His wrists covered in scars,
His stomach roaring with hunger.
He's damaged, some would say.
But at least his love is whole.
Her breathing is heavy,
And her skin is pale.
She's dying, some would say.
But at least she knows how to live.
At least a woman without a house
Knows how to make a home.
Hand her a loaf of bread,
And she won't devour it,
Because she knows how to treasure
The beauty in life.
At least a boy without a smile
Knows how to hold on,
Longer than someone who's never fallen,
And never dared to learn
How to fly.
At least a g
Literature
Lonely:
When you're
so unwanted
that even
your thoughts
choose
to exit
your company.
Literature
Am I Good Enough...?
Legs crossed on a cold basement floor,
Blood stains painting my flesh,
The wounds deeper than ever before,
A white gown now a short black dress.
Long tangled hair clinging to my tears
Wind howling through the trees,
Moonlight painting a sky so clear,
And darling, I'm going to be set free.
My fingers scratch at the blood on my skin,
A delightful pain at the thought of a touch,
And hey, everyone who said I wasn't worth it,
Tell me,
Now am I good enough?
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A short acrostic. Enjoy.
© 2014 - 2024 GhostOfTheEmptyGrave
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Plan for the bad
And hope for the best
In the end of our story
No one is ready for hell