i will not tolerate anything but love from you by seaboundstars, literature
Literature
i will not tolerate anything but love from you
I left lithe lilies
on your porch step,
petals open, smooth
with the sun's caress.
You left me frost flowers.
icy stems cracking with
the slightest touch.
'But they are beautiful,'
you pleaded as I poured
water onto them, melting
their wintry exterior.
'They are, but I despise
winter because you always
leave me icebound.'
You'll never read this. by TheRealDeidara29, literature
Literature
You'll never read this.
I've made up my mind
decided
that
I wanted to be
covered
in the ash
and glass
that was scattered
across your cemetary
when the devil came
and smoked a cigarette
over your tomb
and I watched
with
red gloves
red clothes
black heart
black soul
it was like silk
your
translucent skin
shining
in the moonlight
because I chose the perfect time
for you
to smile
and I knew
that you were
lying through your teeth
every day that you
pretended as if you knew
what your purpose was
so here I stand
with
red gloves
red clothes
black heart
black soul
and I left
watching as the cigarette ashes
were sucked up by a
giggling wind
that thought it was funny
this l
The Sun and the Rain (poem) by erondagirl, literature
Literature
The Sun and the Rain (poem)
Rainbows
The sun was a pretty girl;
Dressed in ribbons and bows.
Each day she brightened up the earth
With her crimson orange glow.
The rain was cold and bitter;
Friends with the sleet and snow.
His heart hung heavy with misery,
His songs were full of woe.
One day they collided.
The sun said “Don’t you know?
The grey and cloudy tears will soon disappear;
I think you’re great just so.”
So up in the sky together
They let their love flow.
It leapt from their hearts, across the world
And became a rainbow.
Another Language called English by UntamedUnwanted, literature
Literature
Another Language called English
I took your adjectives for granted. There was something about the way you skipped over your 's'es and gleaned over your 'i's and 'e's, that never really made me want to kiss you. You'd sit there with your languid fingers clutching a book that was half finished, and read me words that were completely mispronounced. It would prickle me under my skin and I would grit my teeth, wondering when you would stop. I would never understand the english language you thought you spoke, and your confidence in your own words annoyed me.
It was comical when you spoke in front of our friends. Your mistaken pronunciation of the word 'pronunciation' in particul
The music is gone. by BatmanWithBunnyEars, literature
Literature
The music is gone.
I remember emotion
Like the deaf recall a tune.
I still have the notion,
But even that will be gone soon.
The songs are muffled at first,
But the notes remain.
I can still be immersed
In musical joy and pain.
But like a copy of a copy of a copy,
Notes are lost and misplaced,
The whole thing gets sloppy,
A masterpiece defaced.
Finally, the end of the blaze
The last notes die in a frost
Leaving the profound malaise
That something beautiful was lost.
Dead is the feeling I once had.
Left in a mute concert hall,
I wonder how it can hurt so bad,
To feel nothing at all.