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Literature Text
Creativity, set me on fire.
Leave me hanging on your last word and pull me so close.
I want to hear your wisdom; I want to breathe in every part of you.
I want to be kissed by your knowledge and learn to understand.
Just so I can stand on my own.
Be my pillar and lift me up for the world to see.
Show them my layers. Let me spill my colors.
Emotions reflected in a mirror image of all the parts of me.
I am glad to be blessed by you today and forever.
Creativity is my eternal treasure.
Never to give it up, sometimes sparked.
Sometimes fizzled. Always speaking to me in riddles.
Let me figure out the puzzles.
To make a work of Art.
Leave me hanging on your last word and pull me so close.
I want to hear your wisdom; I want to breathe in every part of you.
I want to be kissed by your knowledge and learn to understand.
Just so I can stand on my own.
Be my pillar and lift me up for the world to see.
Show them my layers. Let me spill my colors.
Emotions reflected in a mirror image of all the parts of me.
I am glad to be blessed by you today and forever.
Creativity is my eternal treasure.
Never to give it up, sometimes sparked.
Sometimes fizzled. Always speaking to me in riddles.
Let me figure out the puzzles.
To make a work of Art.
Literature
Stitches
Her name is Stitches and I love her.
She doesn't believe that - she says it is an improbability.
She doesn't say impossibility and that gives me hope.
No one but me knows why she's called Stitches.
I've run my hands over her soft white skin,
Flushed with the fevers of midnight.
I've touched it.
I've let my fingertips explore the hitches in her skin,
Where her body couldn't quite heal itself.
Old memories of gaping holes and vicious lies.
From her shoulder to her wrist,
From her knee to her ankle,
Any where she can negotiate a knife - she is Stitches.
It makes her cry sometimes.
She says she doesn't like being a rag doll any more.
They
Literature
My Words
For someone who loves words so much
I find they often let me down
Words mean the world to me
Yet the best things in the world
Cannot be expressed through them
How can "How are you?"
Express the genuine desire
To know how someone's day is
How they are feeling
And not receive an unconvincing "Good"
How can "I love you"
Express to a friend that they do more
Than make me smile and laugh
That they saved my life
And they make every day whole
How can "I'm sorry"
Express the deep sorrow I feel
At knowing someone is hurt
Knowing how they ache
And being unable to fully help them?
How can "You make me happy"
Express that feeling I g
Literature
from inside my veins.
i want to sing out of tune,
become undone, fly a giant
marshmallow to the moon;
i want to jump on a sponge
three miles long and a mile wide.
i want to speak in bubbles,
just to pop all the words i wish
i hadn't said.
because i'm allergic to the sound
of wind-chimes, sea-food, and the
coasts of france.
i'm dying to become someone, but i don't
think i have a chance.
so i will throw my beer caps away,
i'll light the warehouse all ablaze.
and maybe i could lay down in the grass,
maybe i could sleep beneath
the constellations, dream about
Achilles' heels, take a breath
and breathe out sunflowers.
oh, it could happen,
one of th
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Beautiful!