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Literature Text
There were rhythmic thumps at her door. It wasn't quite the sound of knocking, but she knew there must be something there. She stood and walked to the front door, glancing through the peephole. There was nothing but the gaseous elements of air existing upon the concrete stairs. Still, the sound continued - not worsening, yet promising no end.
Fear began in the bit of her stomach, and so she called up her ex-boyfriend. The only person she recently felt close to that still cared enough for her to drop anything and come to her door. Her cell rang into her ear for thirty-two seconds. Voicemail. She didn't bother to listen to his words before leaving her own. If only she knew the amount of regret she'd later feel.
With no other idea left but to rely on herself, they glanced one more through the door. She opened just a creak - and the sound of thumping increased immediately. There was nothing within her field of vision that revealed anything. Her mind proposed the idea that it may be coming from the side of the house, and so she stepped out. Instinctively, she looked down before taking her first step. Her scream brought over the attention she originally wanted to find the source of the sound.
I loved her. She broke my heart, but I loved her. So I sent her a gift. The night my shattered heart pumped blood so fast from the adrenaline, when the blood just poured from every cut on my body, the evening my heart thumped in pieces without me. I gave her my last gift so that she can never forget me. I gifted her my heart, and left it on her doorstep. I knew she'd call me before she found it, and she would have heard my story. The reason I did it, how much I love her, and how to keep a broken heart still beating and able to love. But she never listened, and now nobody will know.
Fear began in the bit of her stomach, and so she called up her ex-boyfriend. The only person she recently felt close to that still cared enough for her to drop anything and come to her door. Her cell rang into her ear for thirty-two seconds. Voicemail. She didn't bother to listen to his words before leaving her own. If only she knew the amount of regret she'd later feel.
With no other idea left but to rely on herself, they glanced one more through the door. She opened just a creak - and the sound of thumping increased immediately. There was nothing within her field of vision that revealed anything. Her mind proposed the idea that it may be coming from the side of the house, and so she stepped out. Instinctively, she looked down before taking her first step. Her scream brought over the attention she originally wanted to find the source of the sound.
I loved her. She broke my heart, but I loved her. So I sent her a gift. The night my shattered heart pumped blood so fast from the adrenaline, when the blood just poured from every cut on my body, the evening my heart thumped in pieces without me. I gave her my last gift so that she can never forget me. I gifted her my heart, and left it on her doorstep. I knew she'd call me before she found it, and she would have heard my story. The reason I did it, how much I love her, and how to keep a broken heart still beating and able to love. But she never listened, and now nobody will know.
Literature
Real Estate
The cost of intellectual property has gone up.
I can already feel the ideas curdling like milk,
Strings of silver silk lining
Tangling it up so neatly--
A package for the loan-shark in my bed in the morning.
A message to my lover, to whom I owe such a debt:
All you ever do anymore is take.
My poems crumble at the touch,
Fading into the clusters of Sunday brunch and Family Guy reruns.
What's the price of the two seconds of quiet
Without a pile of unfilled lines awaiting my autograph
Ruffling through the papers you'll have me sign-
What wouldn't I give to sign with the devil, over you...
Teetering on the corner of thought,
My pen limp and b
Literature
Escrtito #2 que te dedico.
Ya mi mente envenenada con tu persona ni siquiera puede recordar la razón del por qué estos sentimientos tan destructivos que siento por ti. Ni siquiera sé si tienen sentido mis palabras, cuando hablo de ti me siento como una loca enjaula. Mi locura es el amor que me provocas y mi jaula el deseo que no sacio. Me siento como una estúpida porque me tienes a tus pies y lo sabes, lo sabes porque mi actitud incontrolable te lo demostró. Hay algo que si recuerdo, aquel primer día de clases, aquel sol de 8am que encendía tu pelo color caramelo, aquella mirada profunda atrapada en el vidrio de tus lentes, las vuelta
Literature
The Journey
Beneath my skin, my veins pulse with desire
To know why I am here.
As I journey to find the answers to life,
I sail through the monotonous seas
That stretch forever beyond the horizon.
As my ship sails towards the dry land,
Mountains tower before me,
Filling me with both awe and intimidation.
But the mountains are eroding as time passes by,
Into merely fragments of what they once were.
I move my eyes and watch the glaciers
Melt slowly into rivers.
But even though they disappear,
They melt to provide water for all life on this planet.
You could say rivers are created by glaciers for a purpose.
I ponder those mountains and glac
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She loved him enough to call, but she would never admit she still had feelings. In her selfish moment she didn't listen to his words. She doubted her love and caused the world to never know the secret to mending a broken heart.
On another note... Imagine opening your door to a live heart covered in cracks - broken, snapped, shattered - but still beating. Frighteningly... Hopeful?
Inspired by "The end" by little-wolf-child
"this red organ beating inside
brings back to life what had died
You've taken my everything
made the pain really sting
love is the death of me
and shall soon set me free
with the last beat to a broken heart
comes the words that tore it apart"
On another note... Imagine opening your door to a live heart covered in cracks - broken, snapped, shattered - but still beating. Frighteningly... Hopeful?
Inspired by "The end" by little-wolf-child
"this red organ beating inside
brings back to life what had died
You've taken my everything
made the pain really sting
love is the death of me
and shall soon set me free
with the last beat to a broken heart
comes the words that tore it apart"
Comments3
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This is so deep and so dark and so sad at the same time. And it reminds me how powerful love is. For better or worse...