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Literature Text
forgiveness is the
scent the violet leaves
on the foot that stomped it;
I am beautiful in remembrance:
I am beautiful
in a body two sizes too
large, in eyes dilated
with questions (eyes
you cannot name; gray
like the ocean, blue
like the heart, green like
the fever dream I cannot
wake from) I am the
hair of a lion, a wild
thing, ignition upon
tempted glance. I am the skin
you cannot name, always fleeting;
the chameleon
you always see
but never truly take in.
and I know a boy
carved of ivory silence,
hollowed hungry by the
cruelty of those with
time to spare. his eyes are
starved unblinking, he calls me
beautiful.
I am
louder than my bruises, brighter
than the shadows under my eyes;
I am
beautiful
and I forgive
myself
for all I’ve
done.
scent the violet leaves
on the foot that stomped it;
I am beautiful in remembrance:
I am beautiful
in a body two sizes too
large, in eyes dilated
with questions (eyes
you cannot name; gray
like the ocean, blue
like the heart, green like
the fever dream I cannot
wake from) I am the
hair of a lion, a wild
thing, ignition upon
tempted glance. I am the skin
you cannot name, always fleeting;
the chameleon
you always see
but never truly take in.
and I know a boy
carved of ivory silence,
hollowed hungry by the
cruelty of those with
time to spare. his eyes are
starved unblinking, he calls me
beautiful.
I am
louder than my bruises, brighter
than the shadows under my eyes;
I am
beautiful
and I forgive
myself
for all I’ve
done.
Literature
language
I see her
foraging
for joy
in the tiniest of things
and pretend
I know the world
as well.
Somewhere
on her lips and cheeks -
a myriad of flights
and plumes,
the sweet
dichotomies
between
her muscle
cantering
the pace
of summer
and lounging
with the artless peace
of willows
guarding
waters’ edge,
I find
what she is
looking for -
a pair
of shadows
in her eyes.
Literature
The Girl Who Was Afraid To Be
She speaks to me fondly
of passions and talents,
of guitars and stars,
with such breathless intensity
then stops short and
apologises
for speaking at all.
All because somewhere in her life,
someone she loved broke her heart
by ignoring
her beautiful words
and telling her to
shut up,
keep it down,
nobody cares.
People aren’t born sad.
We make them that way.
Literature
.
keep your eyes forward;
you weren't meant to watch what you're
walking away from
Suggested Collections
while i was away i wrote that everywhere. i don't quite know if i read it somewhere and it stuck or i came up with it myself as i'd like to think.
i really don't uptalk myself often, buuuuuut;
this is a piece i think you need to read if you carry a lot of guilt or issues with self esteem.
beauty really is a state of mind. find your peace. allow yourself to be beautiful.
i really don't uptalk myself often, buuuuuut;
this is a piece i think you need to read if you carry a lot of guilt or issues with self esteem.
beauty really is a state of mind. find your peace. allow yourself to be beautiful.
© 2014 - 2024 intricately-ordinary
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