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Literature Text
I am self-destructive.
You are the affected.
I’m a thought that’s still in motion.
You’re an idea perfected.
I’m a sacrifice without you.
But with your life, I’m injected.
I’m a thousand puzzle pieces.
You’re the way to connect it.
You are the affected.
I’m a thought that’s still in motion.
You’re an idea perfected.
I’m a sacrifice without you.
But with your life, I’m injected.
I’m a thousand puzzle pieces.
You’re the way to connect it.
Literature
The Artist Syndrome
This work is simply brilliant!
Says the artist in me.
I'll have it framed twice!
So precious it be...
Says the artist in me,
But what if people hate it?
So precious it be!
I cannot let them take it!
And what if people hate it,
And what if they hate me?
I cannot let them take it
I'll lock it away you see!
And what if they hate me?
A simple lock will not suffice!
I'll lock it away you see.
In a land of frozen ice...
"And that, my dear Mrs. Sutherland, is why I shipped my art homework to Antarctica!"
Literature
To be a writer
You taste like decaying leaves
and October's bad habits-
when it’s halfway through February
that still haunts these bones.
I have allowed you to
claw your love
into my arms
and chant into my
uninterested ears
for much too long.
I wish I was one of those girls
who could say wild flowers
grow up through my nooks
and my crannies just to tear
through my skin, screaming.
I’m just that dead eyed deer
on the side of the road dreaming
of shoving a pen down my throat
and writing these verses inside out.
I am no scribe, prophet, or spell caster.
I know it.
My skin knows it.
My pen knows it too.
Years and years
from now
my mind will d
Literature
an apology to anyone who'll listen
It begins with a wish
and ends with a sigh.
I am in love with boys who
don't exist and girls who I sometimes
pretend are myself. Spineless,
spiteful, and one hundred percent
sporadic,
I'm becoming undone.
When I was
younger I thought it
was a sin if
your parents didn't
love each other. Now I
know that it's
just the way this world works.
And hell,
I need you right now;
to tell me that
gaining four pounds in
three days is typical
to tell me that
living in a dream every
second is perfectly okay
to tell me that
I'm normal, that I'm
still sane, that I'm not
going to close
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This is how I view the poets relationship to the artist.
Together, we survive.
© 2013 - 2024 Invoking
Comments60
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I love this! I'm a writer married to an artist and this is really a perfect encapsulation of what we both do