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Literature Text
1.
i.
Let your mouth be a mouth, dropping open. Let it smile and contort itself.
ii.
The way some people smile makes me believe they are polar bears on melting ice caps and
the rest of them look like a growling monkey, trying to say "I have no weapon," but it is clicking its teeth together instead.
2.
i.
You love her the way she is. If you had her you would never even say "Take your
clothes off". You know she is not beautiful underneath those garments. Her breasts
are drooping. She has a scar on her stomach after having her appendix removed
when she was eight. You would not want to ruin your love for her- beginning and
ending with her, no panties, no skirt, blouse unbuttoned and your penis in her
ii.
mouth. You both leave unsatisfied because you couldn't stop staring at the cigarette
burn on the inside of her left wrist. You know nothing will ever be as good as her with
all of her clothes on, so you don't kiss her and she doesn't take her shirt off and you
don't see the burns on her back or her stretch-marked stomach.
3.
i.
The bedsheets leave deep marks on your skin- tucked around your ankles, pressed
firmly into your left cheek and chin. So that they are still there even after you have taken
a shower and washed your hair throughly- and when you look in the mirror they are
ii.
taunting you or preparing you for hundreds of more nights- for the day you wake up and
you have washed your hair throughly and you try to rub the bedsheet crinkles from the
cracks of your eyes and the skin just below your thighs and realise they are permanent.
i.
Let your mouth be a mouth, dropping open. Let it smile and contort itself.
ii.
The way some people smile makes me believe they are polar bears on melting ice caps and
the rest of them look like a growling monkey, trying to say "I have no weapon," but it is clicking its teeth together instead.
2.
i.
You love her the way she is. If you had her you would never even say "Take your
clothes off". You know she is not beautiful underneath those garments. Her breasts
are drooping. She has a scar on her stomach after having her appendix removed
when she was eight. You would not want to ruin your love for her- beginning and
ending with her, no panties, no skirt, blouse unbuttoned and your penis in her
ii.
mouth. You both leave unsatisfied because you couldn't stop staring at the cigarette
burn on the inside of her left wrist. You know nothing will ever be as good as her with
all of her clothes on, so you don't kiss her and she doesn't take her shirt off and you
don't see the burns on her back or her stretch-marked stomach.
3.
i.
The bedsheets leave deep marks on your skin- tucked around your ankles, pressed
firmly into your left cheek and chin. So that they are still there even after you have taken
a shower and washed your hair throughly- and when you look in the mirror they are
ii.
taunting you or preparing you for hundreds of more nights- for the day you wake up and
you have washed your hair throughly and you try to rub the bedsheet crinkles from the
cracks of your eyes and the skin just below your thighs and realise they are permanent.
Literature
looking back
like reading a book backward, i read you. tears crawled up your cheek and hid themselves in your eyes. i backed forward, pulled my lips against yours, pressed them away, and leaned back. my hand fell up to your face, traced your cheekbone, raised back down to my side.
you feel like glass against my skin
cold and distant, beautiful, let me in
like a poem bottom to top, i felt you near and against me. your arms wrapped around where i wasn't a few minutes later and where i won't be a moment ago. your eyes spelled out words right to left, .oot ,uoy evol i dna og ot evah uoy das m'i and i love you.
too, you love i and you love i. and backwards
Literature
because I know you're...
you mouth
Bukowski
beautifully
but I'm ready
to try
your own tongue
I'm delighted
you discovered
sex & selfishness
substance(s) & circumstance
excelling at art
excrement & experimentation
exposing your
pretend
private parts
I know how
sometimes
your heart breaks
over the sounds
those empty words make
and everything reminds you
of everything you're not
you're bruised
drowning in booze
and forever in love
with yourself
I get it
now
give me something real
Literature
you look ugly when you breathe
how can you tell me
how much you blankblankblank me
if you're dead (to me)
Suggested Collections
TITLE: HOW TO LOOK IN THE MIRROR AFTER 21 DAYS OF HEAVY DRINKING
I'm reading a manuscript.
it has given me majestic
amounts of inspiration.
PS it did not format it the way it was supposed to. UH
I'm reading a manuscript.
it has given me majestic
amounts of inspiration.
PS it did not format it the way it was supposed to. UH
© 2009 - 2024 batmanonrobin
Comments24
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Your writing is so great!