all you do is breathe
in, out
apply the right pressure,
ill break under your touch.
you're nothing but a cheap addict-
a cheap addiction
that I'm facing all alone.
it's not safe to let you know
how i feel, because when i start to choke
you just smile, and tighten your hands
around my neck.
send me validation,
send me something secure
to wrap around myself so i will not falter
or melt or crumble
under your stare
"and i will always be a writer,"
she declared, shaking, unsure
brash.
i found you in-between
the soft whisper sighs
of something that just
might be love.
"i will always be a writer," she repeated.
what good does 3AM do you
when there is no drug induced
slumber to fall under,
grabbing you by your wrist
with you here,
next to me,
i am glad.
because when you surround yourself
with the seasons, the years seem to
travel faster.
when you surround yourself,
with the sun and the moon-
bowing down, drifting into
the waters of addiction -
Dead Bodies Don't Cry by QuirkyCuriousBex, literature
Literature
Dead Bodies Don't Cry
i.
You are born with twisted feet
and a pockmark on your chest.
Your poor mother is drenched in sweat,
straining to breathe,
thanking God that it's over.
She cradles you in her arms
and kisses your forehead with curved lips.
Your father reaches out to hold you
but has to pause because
your mother will not release you yet.
The family pays a visit,
hovering in awe, praising, laughing.
You look around for someone to blame.
ii.
When you learn to write
you use all the wrong letters
because you feel sorry for the ones
that get left out, like X and Z.
And you wear mismatched clothes
because you don't like the idea that
only certain colors "go t
https://fishingboatproceeds.tumblr.com/post/31026577075/on-self-publishing-and-amazon
I would just like to leave that link there. I think John Green has some VERY good points about Jeff Bezos and his true intentions with Kindles and Amazon as a whole.
Corporations just make me sad and depressed for the most part because they are so big and scary and yeah.
On another note I keep planning to sit down and write but I never do it. I don't know why.
I've been questioning a lot of things lately about life and who I am. Honestly with me getting older it's just making things harder (surprise, surprise) to figure out. I've been doing a lot more thinking lately though - and I haven't done a lot of deep thinking for the past four years really. High school numbed me out and made me shut my whole brain out of itself somehow. And now I'm thinking again. And it's weird. And I'm kind of happy about it.
I still have no faith in other people though. They just want to talk about themselves. And their problems are so trivial. It's frustrating that they can't focus on to the solution of their problems
I think you might be the first person on DA to have read that short story. When I print it out, double spaced, its 15 pages or so. I remember being hugely proud of finishing a bit of fiction, although not proud of the writing itself. Thank you.