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Literature Text
Rain rain go away,
It sat upon all the mountain tops,
it’s thunder shook through the valley bellow
and stirred was the dead man’s glass eye,
but with life?
come again another day.
It sat upon all the mountain tops,
it’s thunder shook through the valley bellow
and stirred was the dead man’s glass eye,
but with life?
come again another day.
Literature
on not knowing.
this road was ten miles long.
i traveled barefoot.
Literature
snowbones
holding my hands over the kettle
the skin on my fingertips peels back,
like dated wallpaper,
like flowers blooming.
they're burning from the inside out,
nails turning to varnish, turning to steam,
bones click-clacking their way out;
spreading like wildfire.
the whistling stops, and
blink
and my fingers are just fingers,
ink stained, bitten nails.
sunlight streams across the kitchen,
my fingers warm and
slightly damp, i trace patterns on
steamed-up windows.
Literature
things i've yet to tell you.
i. last night i woke up just in time
to pronounce myself dead.
i figured, at the very least
i deserve to say it first.
i figure i've earned that much.
instant death- or
death in an instant-
allegedly painless.
they try to tell you
earnestly
"she never felt a thing"
ii. ryan,
remember that
your heart beats until it doe
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© 2009 - 2024 Broken-Poet
Comments1
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It's beautiful xx