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Literature Text
roll off my back
patience and anger
like rain
a heart attack
you’re in danger
again
I will never trust
anyone again
I will never make
another friend
I won’t rest
until every last one is dead
until at last I put sorrow to bed
sleep is the new dead
grief is the mindset
I want to suffer
because I only get one death
I want to be sure
that I have no regrets
such a pity ...
that we have to die
like this
to bat an eye
and crack an eyelid
to live a life
without an end
to want to cry
but scream instead
patience and anger
like rain
a heart attack
you’re in danger
again
I will never trust
anyone again
I will never make
another friend
I won’t rest
until every last one is dead
until at last I put sorrow to bed
sleep is the new dead
grief is the mindset
I want to suffer
because I only get one death
I want to be sure
that I have no regrets
such a pity ...
that we have to die
like this
to bat an eye
and crack an eyelid
to live a life
without an end
to want to cry
but scream instead
Literature
the drawing of breath
what makes the change the fang the slope of the jaw we are soft tamped & gentle uncalloused of hand . come circle the portrait an outfitted sorrow all my words leaving him un(a)dressed still he exhales like I do
Literature
Building With Pride
I pick a table at the coffee shop that seems quiet enough for a conversation but still gives me a clear view of the front door. I sit down, pull out the small cassette recorder I inherited from my mom, and toss a pen on top of my yellow legal pad. That's all it takes to tell someone's story. Hell, I've done it with a lot less. These just make it easier. Unless the person I'm interviewing doesn't trust people like me, then these things can actually make it harder. What it boils down to is this: just keep them talking, no matter what. That's it. That's my whole job. Sounds easy, right? Yeah, well, you try it. The bell on the shop door jingles and I look up. He's here, my construction interview. In my head I'm already thanking him for being punctual, a characteristic I've heard is spotty in the industry. After he grabs his drink I wave him down and he meets me in the back. We do the pandemic parody of near handshakes and take seats facing each other, he with his back to the
Literature
yet another
we are drowning in the stories of our own telling Property, Borders, Right to Action, Right to Passage, Grievability become bigger than seas of beating precious hearts i was 8 when I watched my first war on TV i am 38 now show me how it ends
Suggested Collections
more typical post goth poetry
basically about my inability to kill myself
basically about my inability to kill myself
© 2006 - 2024 iisdeadbolt
Comments8
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this is beautiful, it really is. you write such amazing things sam you really do!