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Literature Text
Kelly Marie's parents gave her a cactus for her sixth birthday.
She pulled the spines from the hard shell, one by one, the cactus screaming with each tug.
Kelly Marie smiled and gathered them into a plastic bag with care.
Her little brother woke up the next morning with spines in his eyes and a note that read:
"i like this one better"
She pulled the spines from the hard shell, one by one, the cactus screaming with each tug.
Kelly Marie smiled and gathered them into a plastic bag with care.
Her little brother woke up the next morning with spines in his eyes and a note that read:
"i like this one better"
Literature
Fifty
Please understand: I do not want
to want this (you).
I realized at poem nineteen-of-fifty:
You (college-borne) are a new you,
I (weaponized) am a new me,
and the new me still wants the new you.
Literature
Plow
It's finally snowing again,
blankets of peace falling
with a freshness that lacks innocence.
Nearly forgotten, they're here as expected,
clearing the streets,
trying to push aside all the worry
that makes things unsafe, but
the steel mouth askew grates against my heart;
its thick bass scrape pushing more than piles of white aside,
it pushes my blood aside too,
piling it up in the corner of this pumping vessel that falters,
ice-caked and bitten, stiffened,
and keeps faltering,
again,
and again,
and again,
until the air is silent
and the street no longer shivers in torture.
The only evidence is the blanket of white
that keeps
Literature
What Am I?
Lingering in that photo...
In that simple shot
I look, and I see a woman.
I am not a woman.
I have never worked for a lifestyle,
given birth for an allowance
I have never truly loved a man.
I am not a woman.
I do not have the means to
Transport
myself
to wake, feel the calling..(oh, it calls, but I do not answer)
and move, move, move
until I reach a place of
astonishing beauty.
I am not a woman.
Sometimes, I still take the
Weight
of my childhood and
place it on shoulders of
self-doubt.
and
Sometimes, I remember the way
lifting builds me up.
But I am not a woman.
Lingering in that photo...
A wisdom of some sort
has t
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funny story: i sat down to write something for my sister, since it is her birthday soon. i wrote this instead.
© 2011 - 2024 the-balcony-scene
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