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Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
June 8, 2013
Love and Eighth Grade Science by *aloverscharm adds a loving quality to physics and a technical side to romance with a wonderful parting line.
Featured by Nichrysalis
Literature Text
My love
is like white light,
intense,
comprised of the entire color spectrum,
but for now it has been diffused into its original components
by the prism you have set forth.
The colors are brilliant but aimless,
mere echoes between empty walls.
My love
is like potential energy, waiting
to be converted to kinetic energy,
at top speed and with incredible momentum.
but first, you have to push.
is like white light,
intense,
comprised of the entire color spectrum,
but for now it has been diffused into its original components
by the prism you have set forth.
The colors are brilliant but aimless,
mere echoes between empty walls.
My love
is like potential energy, waiting
to be converted to kinetic energy,
at top speed and with incredible momentum.
but first, you have to push.
Literature
the water
i almost drowned a few years back that december.
you were making waves before i even hit the water
on a hill in hartford and elsewhere out east.
it's crazy to think we never would meet if it weren't for me
losing my cool and now i can't kick it, but fuck it.
it's as if it we're meant to be and you were meant for me;
both broken, we push it, and smile, and bullshit.
sometimes i skip rocks and she sings songs.
the tide turned sometime when you hit a different dialect,
a different tongue, my stomach turned, lines blurred,
i wanted to run or at least push myself into the pool.
sink or swim, crash and burn,
it's all the same, i live and learn,
b
Literature
dear mia,
the other night
i caught you with fingers so far
down your throat
they choked you from the inside
out.
your closed fists
formed snail shell spirals
at your sides
and the tears in your eyes
told the story you wouldn’t tell
and i already knew.
“i’m fine,”
you said,
not trusting me enough
to say the truth.
baby girl,
you’re beautiful,
but sometimes
you tear me apart.
Literature
What Am I?
Lingering in that photo...
In that simple shot
I look, and I see a woman.
I am not a woman.
I have never worked for a lifestyle,
given birth for an allowance
I have never truly loved a man.
I am not a woman.
I do not have the means to
Transport
myself
to wake, feel the calling..(oh, it calls, but I do not answer)
and move, move, move
until I reach a place of
astonishing beauty.
I am not a woman.
Sometimes, I still take the
Weight
of my childhood and
place it on shoulders of
self-doubt.
and
Sometimes, I remember the way
lifting builds me up.
But I am not a woman.
Lingering in that photo...
A wisdom of some sort
has t
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Written April 23, 2013, after an exasperated venting session with a fellow tormented soul about being lonely because we have so much love but no idea what to do with it. Going with my thirteen-liner format again, because it just keeps happening that way.
© 2013 - 2024 hopeburnsblue
Comments42
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I can't believe I didn't read this earlier! Congrats on the DD! Very beautiful.