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Literature Text
I am ashamed to admit my mistake,
not because of its nature,
but because I did not learn from it.
not because of its nature,
but because I did not learn from it.
Literature
existentialist pick ups...
where have I been all my life?
Literature
Halation
Wait until tomorrow comes,
when moonbeams dance on silvered tiptoes
and stars live in the black spaces between your ribs
pushmumbling beneath your skin.
So that your secrets hidden in little known places,
will be lit by the moon boats casting anchor in the color of your eyes
and the glow of firefly comets drifting about your heart.
[or maybe a soul]
Literature
Catapedamania
—i know they don’t want me to jump—
I have forever harbored inside me a fascination with edges.
My first memories are of standing on a cliff, wanting oh so badly for it to crumble under my feet. I saw a line separating earth and sky, and an urge rose in my chest to blur it.
This feeling of always being on the very tip of reality, wishing I could lose my balance and plummet, only intensified as I grew older. I found such sweetness in thoughts of stepping over sidewalk cracks to plunge into a world with nowhere left to stand on.
At the same time I was afraid normal boys didn’t think of falling as I did, didn’t wan
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I would like to dedicate this poem to ~kurwa-zajebista. I will explain why.
I had some really amazing discussions with him yesterday, and he provided some great ideas for me to think about. My brain still feels stimulated. I'm just waiting for it to overheat.
So really, the idea was derived from one of those conversations. We talked about learning from one's mistakes, among many other things.
Later, while brushing my teeth, I began to wonder about secrets and why certain ones are kept hidden, thus the poem! Of course, not all mistakes are concealed for that particular reason, but I believe it's one of the many candidates.
Does anyone relate to this?
I had some really amazing discussions with him yesterday, and he provided some great ideas for me to think about. My brain still feels stimulated. I'm just waiting for it to overheat.
So really, the idea was derived from one of those conversations. We talked about learning from one's mistakes, among many other things.
Later, while brushing my teeth, I began to wonder about secrets and why certain ones are kept hidden, thus the poem! Of course, not all mistakes are concealed for that particular reason, but I believe it's one of the many candidates.
Does anyone relate to this?
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Comments24
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And you wonder what's going on in the mind of a killer? This poem.