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Literature Text
Wind blows hair across my eyes.
Trust me. I'm trying to smile, and I'm trying my absolute best.
Gazes are still locked.
[it doesn't matter, we've lost the key anyway]
dolly dolly dolly,
the best isn't ever good enough.
The cliche love of walking on the beach has turned into a real mind hater.
I swear, I could look out over the water and see my heart sinking.
[The moon might illuminate the drowning scene.]
Despite the sun going down.
Concentration of cold hearts.
You shift your feet and mutter "You meant something to me."
Three years turns to three minutes in the drop of a smile.
Cross your fingers that I can keep my tears in check.
Because you mean something to me.
The thunder gives you an excuse to say "We better get going."
drive spent staring straight ahead. I think that words are useless at this point.
"Drop me off here."
"Here? At this hotel? Are you sure?"
Slow to a stop, watch me slam the door, and run through the rain without looking back.
Trash blows across the streets. Desert me. Again.
I need the impersonal effects of a hotel room.
Don't............Do................This.
The white walls with peeling paint, functional bed, cheap sheets.
Cover my face with my hands, throw myself against the wall.
Watch the way my make-up stains my new dress meant to impress you
only to be found out you couldn't care less.
A Nervous Breakdown In A Fashionable Hotel.
Trust me. I'm trying to smile, and I'm trying my absolute best.
Gazes are still locked.
[it doesn't matter, we've lost the key anyway]
dolly dolly dolly,
the best isn't ever good enough.
The cliche love of walking on the beach has turned into a real mind hater.
I swear, I could look out over the water and see my heart sinking.
[The moon might illuminate the drowning scene.]
Despite the sun going down.
Concentration of cold hearts.
You shift your feet and mutter "You meant something to me."
Three years turns to three minutes in the drop of a smile.
Cross your fingers that I can keep my tears in check.
Because you mean something to me.
The thunder gives you an excuse to say "We better get going."
drive spent staring straight ahead. I think that words are useless at this point.
"Drop me off here."
"Here? At this hotel? Are you sure?"
Slow to a stop, watch me slam the door, and run through the rain without looking back.
Trash blows across the streets. Desert me. Again.
I need the impersonal effects of a hotel room.
Don't............Do................This.
The white walls with peeling paint, functional bed, cheap sheets.
Cover my face with my hands, throw myself against the wall.
Watch the way my make-up stains my new dress meant to impress you
only to be found out you couldn't care less.
A Nervous Breakdown In A Fashionable Hotel.
Literature
I hope its going to clear up
I hope its going to clear up, it can't continue rain for long. I think I'm going to take a look outside. The drapes always give me a hard time; oh, I think I broke them. Oh well I might as well just go outside. I better put my jacket on so I don't get to wet. Damn stairs, why do I have to live on the top floor. Maybe I should look for a new place, maybe a new city. I love the people here, but I get so damn bored. Maybe I don't evolve here; sometimes it feels like I'm just doing the same thing over and over. Only four stairs left. But I did just move back to this city two months ago, has it really just been two months? Yeah! I guess it's the p
Literature
when You were fourteen
You spit, splatter Your eyelashes
against his cheeks, You rub Your forehead
on her wall holding poison in Your hands,
he should cower, but does not, she should
not turnaroundyellscreamshoutkickcry
but does.
You hold Yourself
like Your family have disowned You
for the fifty eighth time and grin into doors
at how sad you can be. You wash dinner plates
one a time and Your chests pour out bubbles.
i often replace You with a DoubleYou to show You
how big these things can seem when you hold two telescopes
to the map on your thigh and calculate carefully
where the pain will end up. Not in Your feet,
or chest, not in Your skull or pin
Literature
lessons we do not learn
i was at the airport when i tried to reach you,
telling you secrets bandaged in old news papers.
i guess i was expecting you to hear harder
than the plastic tubes and upsurge onto the first flight out here,
with a plaster and a blue flashing light.
i could not explain how i died there
on the terminal floor, with three men with guns not-looking
and a child running by.
this is what heartbreak is, i thought -- a lack of oxygen,
the force of gravity, loss of bone mass, a cot death,
a bulldozer, an assassination, a loss of faith, brain cancer
and three-day seconds where the world floats by
with knives in its eyes
because nobody see
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the point is personal, but not the one i was talking about in my journal.
© 2005 - 2024 yournotagoodbye
Comments29
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That made me cry. it is describing every single emotion that i am feeling write now. thank you so much for writing it. 
