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Literature Text
stubbed, chubby fingers suffocate
everything they hold, squeezing onyx ink
onto snow white pages—forcing each
character—b e g the hardest letters to write.
blue lines running horizontal, space slowly
filling with shaky scrawl; aching to tell thousands
of stories—unable to do more than a
single letter [25 others: illegible scribbles].
oxygen mask strapped, siphoning
choking, raspy breaths into the open air
cast away by another…
feet plastered to squares of metal—black cushions
stark contrast—a single hand resting on the red joystick
whir whir whir—be-ep be-ep be-ep
ringing sounds: sure signs of wheelchair reversal—
—if only there was such a thing as life reversal…
be-ep be-ep be-ep
…what I wouldn't give…
everything they hold, squeezing onyx ink
onto snow white pages—forcing each
character—b e g the hardest letters to write.
blue lines running horizontal, space slowly
filling with shaky scrawl; aching to tell thousands
of stories—unable to do more than a
single letter [25 others: illegible scribbles].
oxygen mask strapped, siphoning
choking, raspy breaths into the open air
cast away by another…
feet plastered to squares of metal—black cushions
stark contrast—a single hand resting on the red joystick
whir whir whir—be-ep be-ep be-ep
ringing sounds: sure signs of wheelchair reversal—
—if only there was such a thing as life reversal…
be-ep be-ep be-ep
…what I wouldn't give…
Literature
Matchstick
irreplaceable yet unnecessary
leave me in your retrospect
where you found me, unwanted & with a question mark over my head
or a Matchstick, maybe
I'm the fire you started &
couldn't put out
the one you doused &
the One you'll freeze without.
Literature
Devastation
Aftershocks shook her soul for weeks.
Literature
what about him?
he cries, but no-one hears,
they shelter themselves from his pain,
they think he's a nuisance,
they ignore his cries,
He screams, but no one hears,
but they still feel his cold breath as it hits them,
they don't care, they won't embrace him,
what if i were to cry?
what if i screamed?
they would care for me,
maybe only from pity,
but that would be better than nothing,
he has nothing,
no-one to care for him,
no-one to even pity him,
no-one.
his name?
The sky
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My cousin, 16, is confined to a wheelchair for life...she needs an oxygen mask at all times, cannot walk, and can barely speak. Yet she still has brain capacity besides, who can kill their own child?
This piece was written within three different poems. The ideas I wrote on paper kept morphing, nothing coming out the way I wanted--or needed...until the first lines of this poem flew onto the paper...
Written to: "Crying" by J.Reyez.
NOTE: The song's name is "This Pain"...he modified the original name a few years ago... When I downloaded the song it was still called "Crying" and that is what I know it as, hence the note addition and not a simple switch.
Feedback, comments, and critiques are welcome!
This piece was written within three different poems. The ideas I wrote on paper kept morphing, nothing coming out the way I wanted--or needed...until the first lines of this poem flew onto the paper...
Written to: "Crying" by J.Reyez.
NOTE: The song's name is "This Pain"...he modified the original name a few years ago... When I downloaded the song it was still called "Crying" and that is what I know it as, hence the note addition and not a simple switch.
Feedback, comments, and critiques are welcome!
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Comments15
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My heart goes out to you and your cousin.