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Literature Text
Tea & cigarettes
She says she sees her future
in tea and cigarettes
as she thinks of a past
that she’d much rather forget
The smoke lingers forever
in the air and in her heart
remembering the painful end
and the regret-ridden start
Autumn leaves begin to fall
[and the world with it, it seemed]
as the cigarettes burn away –
and then, one by one, the dreams
She says she sees her future
in tea and cigarettes
as she wishes away her past
shrouded in silhouettes
She says she sees her future
in tea and cigarettes
as she thinks of a past
that she’d much rather forget
The smoke lingers forever
in the air and in her heart
remembering the painful end
and the regret-ridden start
Autumn leaves begin to fall
[and the world with it, it seemed]
as the cigarettes burn away –
and then, one by one, the dreams
She says she sees her future
in tea and cigarettes
as she wishes away her past
shrouded in silhouettes
Literature
emotions with longer names
"Why are you holding a camera?" Her eyes flickered to look at his. She possessed no poker face—her discomfort made him smile, even now.
"I don't know," replied a disembodied voice. The sound of his words made his heart beat faster, made the memories come rushing back in some horrific nightmarish image of a carnival ride.
She displayed her white teeth to him in an awkward smile, the flashing red light reflected in her eyes. They weren't looking at the camera—they were looking at him.
"Talk to me," he said, loving to film the shape of her face in all that silence but knowing her awkward quirks.
"I don't know what to say." Her voice was quie
Literature
where the missing socks go
i fell into the washing machine today
and i found a world
where all the lost things go.
i saw gatherings of lint
and social events
for dimes, nickels, and quarters.
there were eleven shiny-now-dull buttons
discarded like adverbs.
i could smell the stagnant water
of one thousand and three spin cycles.
i didn't mind; it wasn't so bad
until it got a little nostalgic.
i started to remember
spring mud,
summer grass stains,
autumn fading,
winter salt-bleached jeans,
and
all the times i almost
lost something.
you think you love the smell of detergent
until you find out where it goes.
so i surfaced
with three lonely socks,
my
Literature
pretty boys break hearts.
sometimes I think Im just a mess of badly drawn lines. Im just scrawled veins beneath paper rough skin, I wear poorly sketched scars on my thighs [skin deep red pen lines] and even my smile is lop-sided- but he never seemed to notice.
my skin [spread like thick icing over my skeleton] is a monotonous pattern of pores, a stretch of the world the sun never kissed. I cant see the beauty in multitudes of freckles and chipped fingernails- but he does.
why do you love me?
you make me happy.
I never could figure out just how. was it my illegible love notes, or the tiny hearts I drew into his bare back wi
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Title: Tea & cigarettes
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Comments42
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This reminds me alot of the conversations my best friend and I have over tea and cigarettes.