Lie down in fragrant dirt by Colornote, literature
Literature
Lie down in fragrant dirt
Lie down in fragrant dirt, the field unplowed.
This is a dream of course, you can’t go back.
Lie down in summer—summer’s still allowed
For those who know that now is real and fact.
Lie down in fields of gold while Sting sings songs
Of love you found when young but lost when old.
Lie down in fields of snow when sadness longs
For ends, but rise to tell remaining life untold.
Lie down because you can, and not because
You must. Lie down for love and sleep and rest.
For saying no to endless work, and pause.
How else to know that life is not a test?
Lie down in fields of gold, this harvest grown
By you, and rest before the sun
What you never were. by ShadowsInSunlight, literature
Literature
What you never were.
When I was fifteen
you seemed like the best kind of bad idea,
twenty-one
and full of half-hearted promises
scarlet tinged dreams,
for some reason I thought of you as a toy solider with a dented tin helmet.
You didn't believe in christmas
You didn't know how to have meals on kitchen tables,
but you half-smiled at me while tracing sharp edges against my neck,
I'd always liked puzzles and I thought I could put you back together again.
I don't suppose
I put up many walls to stop you
from climbing over bricks and into my bed
but I was nearly sixteen
and wanted to taste something
other than a small town waiting on a low hope future
and yo
Just a slight shift in your weight
and you were leaning over the edge.
A little more, and then you were gone.
I didn't rush to your aid,
because I was curious to know
if wingless angels could fly.
I should have died by Beyond-the-Pages, literature
Literature
I should have died
I should have died,
gone quietly as I cried,
bleeding internally all night.
But I gasped as I tried,
unable, I lied
and pretended everything was alright.
Gone, lost at sea,
never returned to me,
a distorted view of man.
Nevertheless, I bleed,
feeling so weak,
and I won't seek you again.
"I'm sorry" are such small words.
Tiny. Meaningless.
You took so much.
After an age of screaming at you in my dreams,
that's what I get after nights of putting you on trial.
And yet falling through the hangman's noose every sunrise.
You took so much.
"I'm sorry, that's it?
That's all you have to say.
Those are your final words,
I will let you rest in peace.
You took so much.
You never would have said that in life.
Why would you say it in death?
Small words. Tiny. Meaningless.
And then gave me little. Small. Tiny. Meaningless. words.
Maybe things will be better now.
she bites her lip
to keep in
the words she will not say.
because sometimes
strength demands distance.
they don't tell you this
when you're young,
but sometimes love isn't enough.
sometimes things just don't work-
no matter how hard you try.
sometimes you lose-
you fall on the pavement
and no one catches you.
she had nothing left to give,
so she gave herself a break.
sometimes love can't save you.
sometimes, you have to save yourself.
how come everytime
i'm depressed
i end up writing a poem about you?
it's not just you -
it's any
you
in my life
the same old
pathetic reason
because of what i
roll into a ball
and cry
(or fuck)
myself to sleep.
masturbation
is a way
to preserve my freedom
from the will of men.
and i do, i do, i do
ten times every night
until my nails dig deeper into my flesh
and i start crying again
my great pool of tears
i'm crying myself a shelter to crawl into.
remember, we were a fabric
made in the workshop of heaven
but now it is torn and
whoever tore us
(destiny, fate, faith, love)
kept you in their hand
and threw me on th
You have nearly
(not quite, not yet)
mastered the ability
to bend your back until your human skeleton
collapses
into a beasts,
to shape-shift your heart-shaped organ
into one
of a
lung
because god-forbid you feel remorse
for all the wrong you've done.
Don't you dare
dishonor the family name
with something as foolish
as true love or capturing your own dreams,
you must let your disgusting father
crawl inside your vessel,
take control of your limbs
and relive his life through you,
give up yourself to him,
give up your wants for
the little boy with
slurred speech and building paranoia,
because you need an
excuse
to be dependent,