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Literature Text
Never love a damaged girl
Even though you don't mind her scars.
She got them when she was vulnerable
So now she stays on her guard.
Understand that she can't love you
Though love you, she may try.
Because love requires trust and not
Her ever watchful eyes.
She loves herself above all else
(You'd do well to learn it too.)
That her feelings don't mean anything
If it comes down to her or you.
Know she won't be gentle
She's prepared for your attack
Nothing but death will stop her
So it's best if you fight back.
Even when she's shattered
And you think that you have won
She knows she isn't broken
She knows she isn't done.
She'll pick up all the pieces
That her battered soul can find
And glue them back together
Despite the length of time.
Don't feel bad for what you've done
You've only made her stronger.
You've showed her where she's weakest
So now she can perfect her armor.
Never love a damaged girl
Because she knows how to survive
And just when you think you've killed her
You'll find that she's still alive.
Even though you don't mind her scars.
She got them when she was vulnerable
So now she stays on her guard.
Understand that she can't love you
Though love you, she may try.
Because love requires trust and not
Her ever watchful eyes.
She loves herself above all else
(You'd do well to learn it too.)
That her feelings don't mean anything
If it comes down to her or you.
Know she won't be gentle
She's prepared for your attack
Nothing but death will stop her
So it's best if you fight back.
Even when she's shattered
And you think that you have won
She knows she isn't broken
She knows she isn't done.
She'll pick up all the pieces
That her battered soul can find
And glue them back together
Despite the length of time.
Don't feel bad for what you've done
You've only made her stronger.
You've showed her where she's weakest
So now she can perfect her armor.
Never love a damaged girl
Because she knows how to survive
And just when you think you've killed her
You'll find that she's still alive.
Literature
Euphrosyne
dawn.
legs splash from milky sheets.
she rises from the bed like a wave
and crests, just before bare feet touch wood
and fog crawls across the mirror.
midmorning.
footsteps leave damp prints on the floor.
she sings in muted tendrils that float through
hollow rooms.
the sun dries her hair with copper fingers.
noon.
the shadows bunch beneath her feet
and she tosses them across the sky-
painting clouds over the staring sun.
mile-long legs stretch across the world
and she
makes love to the hand-me-down earth.
afternoon.
her quickened breath becomes the wind
and sails ships across the seven seas.
dusk.
when the sun grows w
Literature
Dormant
Winter is a blank slate,
but not like Rousseau's—
it cleanses
sucking out warmth like poison
leaving only windburnt frost
tacked to the window pane
all we remember
is the numbness
the shuddering
skittish steps across the ice
snowflakes pasted to our faces
smoke rising from our lips
dragged across bleak clouds
winter has us captured
bound by fur and walls
drifting in our eggshelled silence
bone cold until we birth ourselves by warmth
emerge from our shells wet and heaving
uncurl our fingers one by one
joints crackling like fire at our backs
until spring comes
drip by tender drip
old wounds thaw
we are found raw,
Literature
Dreamers
She reminds me that she's a dreamer
Her right hand delicately grips a pencil
as she's working equations on a TI-89 with her left
She looks up at me and smiles,
and there are stars, meteors,
spanning across the cosmos of her expression
her countenance reminds me to look up at the chalkboard
that's attempting to teach me how
to make verses sing from pages in a plain 8 by 11 notebook
and I am only armed with
a .7 pencil and a purple pen,
stolen from my older sister's pencil pouch
My hands are inches away from hers
from the desks side by side
like cars parallel parked on a side road
her equations confuse me
until she flips the
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Comments4
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holy cow... umm gurls can actualy die, even if they don't litteraly, its deep down inside, the soul. it might be so intese that she turns to the bad side, I bet if he gave her time, she would trust. I think it would be the same for a boy maybe. love is a serious thing it can effect a persons life. well wrighten thow