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Literature Text
paper cut out lady, paper cut out lass;
sweetheart; honey; baby –
words are flashes in the pan. my universal
handle; the words by which i’m known
say nothing for my mind, say nothing for my soul.
i’m your ‘sugar’, i’m your ‘precious’, my name
is not my own, just your collection of sweet women,
your list of names to own.
your laugh eats holes in waistline, your touch
burns pits in ribs. your hands erode away my
patience, and toughen up my skin - i’m left; a wrapping
of sores and bruises, and rotten deep within.
sweetheart; honey; baby –
words are flashes in the pan. my universal
handle; the words by which i’m known
say nothing for my mind, say nothing for my soul.
i’m your ‘sugar’, i’m your ‘precious’, my name
is not my own, just your collection of sweet women,
your list of names to own.
your laugh eats holes in waistline, your touch
burns pits in ribs. your hands erode away my
patience, and toughen up my skin - i’m left; a wrapping
of sores and bruises, and rotten deep within.
Literature
The Price of Dying
“I want to be interred after I die,” Mr. Peters said. He made that clear to his family while he was still lucid, before old age and illness rendered him unintelligible. Seventy wasn’t that old, but he recognized the symptoms that were creeping up on his ailing body – the aches, the fatigue, the feeling of helplessness and despair. Despite his daughter’s attempts to assuage his concerns, he sensed his own mortality.
The worst part about dying, Mr. Peters thought, was what happened afterwards. Even since he was a small boy, he had been afraid of fire. He could never forget the scorching heat of the orange fla
Literature
plumbum
she has a heart of gold
and she, a heart of lead
and she, a heart of uranium.
and they go walking sometimes, the three of them.
gold is confident in her worth,
untarnishable
bought and sold and bought and sold
the virgin whore
and lead behind,
heart heavy in her chest
guilt from bullets
and pride from pipes
and anxiety from irreparable brain damage
and somewhere off to the side treads uranium,
tumors growing,
white skin glowing,
thin frame for a dense core.
Literature
All the Things You Never Knew
It was your favorite thing to say. “We know everything about each other. Not just the good things, but even the bad ones. We have no secrets.” And the way your eyes lit up when you said it, how your arm would curl around my shoulders and squeeze me against you… I couldn’t say anything. I promised myself that I would when we were alone, but the moment always seemed wrong and eventually the fact that I still had secrets became a secret itself.
It turns out I wasn’t the only one.
I never told you about the crying or the cutting or the nights I spent awake staring at the bottle of pills. I was terrified it would b
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