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Literature Text
When the written word just isn't enough
What do I do?
This piece of me is crying, screaming
I can't move, I can't breathe
It slams into me when I least expect it
And it brings me down
I'm a pile of red stained glass from the blown-out window, buried just below the topsoil
Wipe of the soot, and there I am
But careful, I am sharp
Please don't let our reds mix.
The written words just aren't enough
And I'm pining for a touch
A gesture
A word
Not the written ones displayed on this seven inch rectangle of glass
And circuitry, and electricity.
I need the spoken word
The final blows
The nails to the coffin that resides inside my chest
Seal it with a voice
And I will be free.
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So just say them. Say them aloud to me, and make it final.
...my mind and emotions are all wibbly wobbly, because I damn my English classes, and I damn my friends who picked up my assignment, and read it for all to hear, and this just helps me cope.
...
...my mind and emotions are all wibbly wobbly, because I damn my English classes, and I damn my friends who picked up my assignment, and read it for all to hear, and this just helps me cope.
...
© 2014 - 2024 Mondaygirl1113
Comments7
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This is so beautiful.