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Literature Text
You forgot how much she used to care. It's been too long-- too long to remember her secrets or remember the way her eyes lit up when she told them. It's true-- the truth really does set you free, and it's been too long for her to remember what freedom tastes like. She's too afraid to remember that. She's too afraid to remember anything, and that's the problem.
She's got empty glass-green eyes and an empty heart and an empty smile, and you haven't known what to make of it.
So you didn't even try.
You didn't try and you won't try and it's just too bad because she really does need saving. And no matter how many times you lie to yourself, you really do care. You care too much to fail her-- but you've failed at saving yourself. So how are you supposed to pretend you'll succeed at helping her?
Because you won't. And you're afraid to care.
She's too important to risk losing.
She's got empty glass-green eyes and an empty heart and an empty smile, and you haven't known what to make of it.
So you didn't even try.
You didn't try and you won't try and it's just too bad because she really does need saving. And no matter how many times you lie to yourself, you really do care. You care too much to fail her-- but you've failed at saving yourself. So how are you supposed to pretend you'll succeed at helping her?
Because you won't. And you're afraid to care.
She's too important to risk losing.
Literature
Mistakes we are made of
Flaws are just flowers
longingly, amorously
whispering to suns
Literature
save
iii. so you said,
"let's swallow the world. if it's inside of us, it can't hurt us."
i looked into your mahogany eyes and snorted.
"you really do like the illsuion of control, don't you?"
"well," you snapped back, "at least it won't leave scars."
i flinched.
"okay, i'm sorry i laughed," i replied. "but let me assure you that the scars you can see don't hurt nearly as much as the ones you never will, the ones deeply embedded into the inside of my flesh that can't seem to find their way out."
you shook your head and smiled.
"don't worry," you assured me, "soon you'll never have to hurt again."
"you have no idea what you're doing!" i ye
Literature
Escape
Lungs burn
as feet pound
hard
against gravel.
Knee throbs.
Don't stop.
Joints grind:
bone
against
bone.
Breath
short.
Never stop.
Pain shoots
through my back.
One foot
in front
of the other:
the only thing
I know.
Sweat
d
r
i
p
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Comments42
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"the truth really does set you free, and it's been too long for her to remember what freedom tastes like."
Beautifully written.
Beautifully written.