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Literature Text
How are you supposed to live,
When you have nothing to live for?
Yes,
There are friends
But how can you be sure that they're even real?
Even if you've had them your entire life
After a while,
Everything becomes questionable
You don't know who you can trust
Who you can truly call your friend,
And who's just using you for their own game
I've been used
I'm still being used
I'm trying to find something to live for,
But there's an enormous rain cloud hovering over my entire life
It's clouding my judgment
It's making me turn from those who love me most
But how do I escape?
I can't
Not until I find a savior
Who will be ready to catch me when I fall
Maybe then the sun will come back to me
When you have nothing to live for?
Yes,
There are friends
But how can you be sure that they're even real?
Even if you've had them your entire life
After a while,
Everything becomes questionable
You don't know who you can trust
Who you can truly call your friend,
And who's just using you for their own game
I've been used
I'm still being used
I'm trying to find something to live for,
But there's an enormous rain cloud hovering over my entire life
It's clouding my judgment
It's making me turn from those who love me most
But how do I escape?
I can't
Not until I find a savior
Who will be ready to catch me when I fall
Maybe then the sun will come back to me
Literature
Morning Coffee
"Morning, my love." My voice is lilting, and floats on the spring-scented breeze, as I bustle around the kitchen, not bothering to turn, as you take your place at the table.
The curtains, thrown wide to welcome the rising sun, are quivering in the gentle wind, and I glance outside, "It's warming up already, this afternoon's sure to be beautiful. Do you think we could go out and start the garden, later? It's a little early in the season, but it's bound to be a lovely day." I ask you, eyes smiling as I take in the dew-speckled grass, glittering in the early sun just beyond the window pane.
I nod to myself, "Yes, yes. I bought the seeds a week
Literature
For someone I don't know
To someone I don't know:
I don't know exactly how I saw you, but you screamed a cry for help from a page that could not make a sound. I heard you. You said your life was unlived, pointless, and you were searching for its end. Would if there were someone, anyone, out there that knew how to make it stop. To make the voices silent, to take the weight off your chest so you could breathe again. If only the little hands would stop taking that knife and making you bleed.
You wish you could sleep. Not just close your eyes, and fall into darkness. No, the real thing. The kind that stupid romantic novels talk about or those babies have before they ca
Literature
reality?
You want me to save
The person you all see;
I'm dying to save
The girl I'll never be.
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Written a while ago. Don't actually really remember writing this or how I felt when I wrote this or what happened when I wrote this or anything. But I know it was earlier this month. Anyways, do with it what you will. I can't force you to do anything.
Comments.Critique much appreciated! Any kind
Comments.Critique much appreciated! Any kind
Comments15
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This is... sad. The questioning of what to live made me wonder why not live? So, you're making me think. This is easy to read and rather effective. Great work.