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Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
October 6, 2012
How To Ask Someone To Let You Love Them by ~GabrielGadfly
Featured by thorns
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Literature Text
I think you keep secrets under your skin
like trees keep rings and do not know it,
like the sea teems,
like dark and quiet space
keeps every ray of light
the stars whispered to one another
when they were still young
and dying to make love.
I think you keep secrets in you
like the desert keeps sands,
like sleep keeps dreams,
like cities keep sleepless people
and people looking for sleepless people
to fall asleep with.
I think you keep secrets
like secrets like to be kept,
and I want to learn them all.
like trees keep rings and do not know it,
like the sea teems,
like dark and quiet space
keeps every ray of light
the stars whispered to one another
when they were still young
and dying to make love.
I think you keep secrets in you
like the desert keeps sands,
like sleep keeps dreams,
like cities keep sleepless people
and people looking for sleepless people
to fall asleep with.
I think you keep secrets
like secrets like to be kept,
and I want to learn them all.
Literature
October Eyes
Such gentle colors drip across your freckled shoulder blades.
A quilt of puddled watercolors soaked in auburn shades.
Spun of golden rivulets and rinsed in autumn skies,
So many endless currents swimming through your lonesome eyes.
Brushing under fingertips and over shattered songs,
Unraveling like morning glaze against my paling palms.
With beauty like October hills and hollow as the skies,
The water drops against the earth will be our lullaby.
Literature
Don't Talk To Me
"I'm sorry," I said, and meant it.
She nodded, her expression unfathomable. "Me too."
There was a long pause.
"Just two days ago," I said quietly, avoiding her eyes, "we couldn't even be in the same room without going for each other's throats."
She turned away. "Yeah," she admitted. "But look at us now."
I continued, "And just two months ago we were the best of friends. But look at us now." This time I looked directly at her, smiling mirthlessly.
"But look at us now," she
Literature
the 'd' word
when i was seven years old, my mother, tear-streaks
drying on her cheeks, fingered her wedding band
and told me, “love hurts, sweetie,
that’s how you know it’s a good love.”
two days later, my father came back home.
he was missing his wedding ring
and when he left again,
he left a handprint on my mother’s cheek
that she carried with her even after the bruise was gone.
i grew up without a father influence in my mother’s world
and without a mother influence in my dad’s.
neither of them got remarried.
they had found each other and that was enough.
they had found each other and that was too much.
i gre
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This poem and many more can be found on my website, [link].
Edit: Thank you all for the Daily Deviation!
Edit: Thank you all for the Daily Deviation!
© 2012 - 2024 GabrielGadfly
Comments73
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This is brilliant.