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Literature Text
Mirror mirror on the wall,
Why am I the worst of all?
Why am I the one I hate?
Is it really far too late?
Mirror mirror tell me this,
Why do I feel I wouldn't be missed?
Why do I feel that no one would care,
Despite the fact I know they are there?
Mirror mirror in the light,
Why do I want to give up the fight?
Why is it that I cannot see,
That there is only one like me?
Mirror mirror hanging there,
Why does my self-hatred, fill my lungs like air?
Why do I tire of the girl that I am?
Why do I always feel like I'm such a sham?
Mirror mirror on the wall,
Who is the fairest of them all?
If you answer that it is I,
It may just stop my wishing to die.
(But it would also be a lie.)
Why am I the worst of all?
Why am I the one I hate?
Is it really far too late?
Mirror mirror tell me this,
Why do I feel I wouldn't be missed?
Why do I feel that no one would care,
Despite the fact I know they are there?
Mirror mirror in the light,
Why do I want to give up the fight?
Why is it that I cannot see,
That there is only one like me?
Mirror mirror hanging there,
Why does my self-hatred, fill my lungs like air?
Why do I tire of the girl that I am?
Why do I always feel like I'm such a sham?
Mirror mirror on the wall,
Who is the fairest of them all?
If you answer that it is I,
It may just stop my wishing to die.
(But it would also be a lie.)
Literature
Relive
and you and i relive our joy every night without much thought about why we do it we share the details of our secret loves with one another rekindling the fire that sparked it all the glimmers the sparkle the glamour of that first interest leaves you and i hungry and i believe you and i are growing closer by these addictions and vices we feed at 3:15 am this dream exchange is going to crash one day because the money we stake on this dream talk is quite a big gamble and we, the poor and sensitive, are running out of free passes yes one day either we will consume our dreams or they will consume us.
Literature
Nocte
Hiding from the beast,
From tree to tree,
Running in the dark,
I tell myself such things,
Slow- so it won't find you,
Breath.
These fires have scorched far and wide,
Leaving the scent of my former cinders to linger in my head,
Like some bad bender,
Warped memories encircling grey,
The ground is made of shattered glass,
Broken dreams.
No lilies remain,
To any kingdom I run,
In mirrors of liquid glass,
Surrealist battles are won,
And like fear,
The spider crawled from my mouth.
They are sedating everything,
Brush pixilated,
Focus changing,
Leaving me to run in the dark,
Caught in the eye of the storm,
Hiding in the calm.
Literature
nothing more
He likes girls who slowly break him
give him bruises
internal scars and memories
tear marked pillows
She likes guys who are a challenge
give her goosebumps
something to think about before sleep
anxious sigh
He likes girls who laugh at his expense
have quirky smiles
cute giggles and sparkly eyes
a good audience
She likes guys who keep their distance
have time alone
stay away, no thing as authentic comfort
'danger, keep away'
He likes girls who teach him about love
it doesn't exist
authentic love is just an idea
and nothing more
She likes guys who don't say the 'l' word
she has said
"your love is fickle."
and nothing mor
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