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Literature Text
hey skinny boy, you walk like you know where you're going
and when you kiss me, i don't know what to say
( and it sort of
reverberates between us, doesn't it? )
and when you kiss me, i don't know what to say
( and it sort of
reverberates between us, doesn't it? )
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
A Pocket Full of Sky
When I was young, my father would take me to the highest tower of Notre Dame precisely once a year. It would be cold. Freezing. But we'd stand there, and take deep breaths of air, and peer down, towards the tiny ants of people below. Down, towards the sprawling city beneath us. It was always winter, when we'd go. Always cold. Freezing, freezing. But however cold it was, and however dull and bleary the weather, my father would ask one thing, and one thing only: that we adhered to tradition.
"Lucie," he would say, with the fond smile and kind eyes I always remember. "Lucie, my peach. Whatever you become, and wherever your heart and mind leads
Literature
A Parenthesis
You were (a parenthesis, that paused
the daily, mundane stuff
of life;
a bundled breath
of fresh joy,
and borne in the wonder
of love.
Gasping and grasping,
'til in quiet you laid
still;
and I, my Child,
lie in quiet, still
tears).
And now, that is all you are,
and still so much more.
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haven't written anything for awhile, so uploading something old.
i don't know who this is about or what it means. i think i wrote this for a john o'callaghan fanfic that never came to fruition LOL
i don't know who this is about or what it means. i think i wrote this for a john o'callaghan fanfic that never came to fruition LOL
© 2012 - 2024 the-balcony-scene
Comments2
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This is so poignant. Beautiful. <3