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Literature Text
I don't remember if it was a wedding or a funeral, only the flowers...
seemed like millions of them
Soft, sorrowful, white flowers... roses or orchids?
I don't remember now, maybe magnolias...
You smiled a thin smile, your face pale, washed out.
If it was a wedding, I wasn't the groom.
A funeral, I wasn't the guest of honor.
I never could get things straight, somehow.
seemed like millions of them
Soft, sorrowful, white flowers... roses or orchids?
I don't remember now, maybe magnolias...
You smiled a thin smile, your face pale, washed out.
If it was a wedding, I wasn't the groom.
A funeral, I wasn't the guest of honor.
I never could get things straight, somehow.
Literature
rise and shine
daybreak is a vial
of liquid amber
spilt out against the sky
when I wake up.
there is enough warmth
between us, I think,
to coax the very sun
into existence—
the press of you
against my back, the
swell of you
within my chest.
and perhaps the sun awakens
each day
to see the breath and motion
of people like us,
drowsy in our crowds
of blankets.
you stir behind me,
and it blinks
its bleary eyes.
Literature
equinox
these days Autumn stands with crossed arms
and a hunched back, branches bending to braid
her auburn hair, toes curled around dry leaves
and withered roots.
she's tried to call me a few times,
tried to water the traces left over from
last year,
thinks a reconciliation can happen out of
stems and petals.
13 missed calls: one for every day
she's been back in town.
her stance used to be wide; feet apart,
arms spread to the sides, smile aimed
towards the sky-
her smile aimed towards me.
i go to the park every day and see her hanging
upside down from the trees, scratches etched
all over her arms.
i trace the ones coating my own skin,
remember
Literature
I Am More Than BPD
Don't tell me you know me better
than the people who've known me
for years. I know me too, and I know
to trust them with my sanity.
Don't tell me I don't need the hospital--
I wouldn't be here
if I didn't need the hospital. This is not
a playground and I am not
stupid. My emotional appendix
has burst and reality
tastes of copper; don't tell me
this is just
attention seeking.
All requests for help
involve seeking attention.
The patient whose leg is broken
screams for pain killers
but I am only kneeling
and asking you to help me
stay alive.
Don't tell me I am being irrational
when you are basing this
on a label only.
I am capable of great
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Comments44
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The imagery and emotion delivers such impact. You are so good at that, Ron.