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Literature Text
I'm thankful for long nights
and late mornings.
Those rainy Monday "sick days,"
where we lie in bed all morning
and talk in the
sign language
of our lips and tongues.
Banana pancakes,
couch cuddling
movie days
in last night's pajamas
and this morning's messy hair.
I want to grow old with you
and spend every Monday with the flu.
and late mornings.
Those rainy Monday "sick days,"
where we lie in bed all morning
and talk in the
sign language
of our lips and tongues.
Banana pancakes,
couch cuddling
movie days
in last night's pajamas
and this morning's messy hair.
I want to grow old with you
and spend every Monday with the flu.
Literature
part-time lesbian
i'm really tired of my love not being as important as yours
or his or hers, that my love is fake, unreal
that i can't love properly because my eyes will always wander
you set me up to fail because my love doesn't start
with an 'h,' that it can't be seen as constant thing that will
always flow from me, bound towards a he or a she, never both
i am tired of being ashamed of how i identify
of laughing and using a different title that has comic relief behind it
and an awkward smile, because it is untrue and it is not who i am
stop telling me that it will all go away one day and that i'll choose a side
do not assume that you can even begin to un
Literature
Together - Lyrical Poem
Every day I think of you,
Each nighttime I dream of you.
In my mind you’re always with me.
Disregard of the distance,
It doesn’t make a difference.
I feel your presence all the same.
Towering peaks and windswept plains,
Bitter cold tundras and fields of grain.
The thickest of forests, the greatest lakes,
Across the oceans, make no mistake;
For even if we are the world apart,
Our thoughts and words mingle in our hearts.
But side by side it’s always better,
It’s always better, when we’re together.
All the wounds and all the falls,
However grievous or however small,
All the pain you feel is mine as well.
There
Literature
(And you love me anyway)
I trap secrets
behind onyx teeth,
creasing my wrists
with your melody.
You spill truths
from incandescent fingers,
rejoicing (lamenting) companionship
through chrome power lines.
We swap batteries and candles,
hoping we light each others' ways
while still stumbling along our own.
I get too trapped
by my life's natural disasters
to remember to celebrate
the close-earned commodities
that spill into yours.
(I want to take this moment
for the thoughts that rot to frustration
on my tongue, but this should be
about both you and me.)
I want to cradle your dreams
in my palms, the way you steady
my fears in yours. But I bleed your heart
with my (
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This is so sweet and nice. Great job!