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Literature Text
the back of my hand is streaked
with my own blood;
don't worry, i'm going to be fine
if i have to force myself to it
at the sharp end of a knife.
waking hours revolve around
the sleeping nights, and i feel like
that's wrong,
but who's going to correct me
when they know the sharp edge of my wit
is so quick to jump to the defence
of my lacking humanity?
pardon the silence.
woebegone dreamer trying to think,
this morning goes too slowly
and the afternoon too quickly,
and someone explain why this wait
cannot ever seem to end,
if not because the gates are not closed
but nonexistent and all the time
we are allotted
is for our own purpose rather than
the toy of some fateful folly.
kitten, you play with that string
and forget that it is
your own mind tied in knots.
with my own blood;
don't worry, i'm going to be fine
if i have to force myself to it
at the sharp end of a knife.
waking hours revolve around
the sleeping nights, and i feel like
that's wrong,
but who's going to correct me
when they know the sharp edge of my wit
is so quick to jump to the defence
of my lacking humanity?
pardon the silence.
woebegone dreamer trying to think,
this morning goes too slowly
and the afternoon too quickly,
and someone explain why this wait
cannot ever seem to end,
if not because the gates are not closed
but nonexistent and all the time
we are allotted
is for our own purpose rather than
the toy of some fateful folly.
kitten, you play with that string
and forget that it is
your own mind tied in knots.
Silver
Thoughts from my journal! Expressed for your enjoyment. Not good going to be posting either daily or every few days. Or once a month.
$2/month
Literature
March of Time
March of Time
Time marches to its own sound.
Tick tock, thump thump, click boom.
In a fraction of a second everything you know and love can be gone.
Life ends and life begins but time pays no mind.
It just keeps marching to its own beat.
Tick tock, thump thump, click boom.
Literature
The Clock
The dials spun counter clockwise back into time on a large old wooden chime clock. It's broad base stands mighty on the floor, made of dark auburn thick heavy oak wood. It towers in an unknown living room. Looking left of the megalithic clock upon the hallway against a beige wall, there is an opening into a kitchen with a dining room table and dining set not unusual in any typical household. In front of the clock is a bland white couch made of coarser thread and to the right of the couch is a living room TV set spanning across a 5 foot wall ending close to where the kitchen begins on the adjacent wall. It is as you would suspect, a typical li
Literature
Time - e =
———
What I have is
Feelings for you
But for the first
Time, putting to
Paper feels wrong.
There’s a need to do
Something else.
Something more . . .
———
Written by Justin B Maltais (7U5T1N (https://www.deviantart.com/7u5t1n))
© 2016 Justin B Maltais (7U5T1N (https://www.deviantart.com/7u5t1n))
Notes: Please comment and share your thoughts. Views and +faves are great but I value feedback much more than stats!
———
Suggested Collections
Ban all the music, it's all gone wrong
- Ban All the Music, Nothing But Thieves
- Ban All the Music, Nothing But Thieves
© 2016 - 2024 LadyOfFrost
Comments2
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Another! I'd been hoping there'd be another one this month!
There's a lot I could say, such as the playful use of the blood and the knife in the beginning, or my comments about sleep patterns (I've been up all night every night recently, and I think I'd eat anyone who told me it was wrong, I know it is and I'll change it when I'm darned well ready to do so @_@; ), but mostly the last part kept looping in my mind. I've been thinking about the concepts of gates, containers, and so on in the mind, and every time I think there's some great cosmic secret, some reason I'm here, all I tend to find is nonsense I put in there myself. Sometimes thinking there's something greater can literally set it up for there not to be.
I'm really, really starting to think that thinking is dangerous sometimes.
It really is easy to be analytical in ways that produce the knots you're trying to undo.
Wanted to heartfully let you know that I think you're still utterly gripping, even if it's been quieter recently around these parts.
There's a lot I could say, such as the playful use of the blood and the knife in the beginning, or my comments about sleep patterns (I've been up all night every night recently, and I think I'd eat anyone who told me it was wrong, I know it is and I'll change it when I'm darned well ready to do so @_@; ), but mostly the last part kept looping in my mind. I've been thinking about the concepts of gates, containers, and so on in the mind, and every time I think there's some great cosmic secret, some reason I'm here, all I tend to find is nonsense I put in there myself. Sometimes thinking there's something greater can literally set it up for there not to be.
I'm really, really starting to think that thinking is dangerous sometimes.
It really is easy to be analytical in ways that produce the knots you're trying to undo.Wanted to heartfully let you know that I think you're still utterly gripping, even if it's been quieter recently around these parts.