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Literature Text
Will you take a Polaroid picture
And shake it in your hand
As you wait for it to develop
Please try to understand
That my smile might as well be painted
My tears photoshopped out
I'll add a caption on the reverse
So there will be no doubt
That I swing low like a pendulum
In a grandfather clock
That I fly high as a soaring kite
With each tick and each tock
Will you take a Polaroid picture
And hold me in your hands
As you wait for me to develop
Please try to understand
There'll be days when I'm as cold as ice
I'll thaw myself for you
And those things I said with aggression
I will try to undo
You should take me in to a dark room
And shake me till its clear
The love I show you is very real
The hate just comes from fear
And shake it in your hand
As you wait for it to develop
Please try to understand
That my smile might as well be painted
My tears photoshopped out
I'll add a caption on the reverse
So there will be no doubt
That I swing low like a pendulum
In a grandfather clock
That I fly high as a soaring kite
With each tick and each tock
Will you take a Polaroid picture
And hold me in your hands
As you wait for me to develop
Please try to understand
There'll be days when I'm as cold as ice
I'll thaw myself for you
And those things I said with aggression
I will try to undo
You should take me in to a dark room
And shake me till its clear
The love I show you is very real
The hate just comes from fear
Literature
Wish for Privacy
I live behind a locked door,
And no one has the key.
It has been years, maybe more
Since someone talked to me.
The solitude was nice at first,
The quiet let me think.
But soon it took a turn for worse
Now all I do is blink.
So be careful, my dear friends,
When you wish for privacy.
Count to 5 when patience bends
Or you'll end up just like me.
Literature
Body Speak, Mouth Don't.
"I need a favour. You got a minute?"
No. No I don't.
My heart feels ripped out of my chest and trampled on too often.
My ears open to screams in the morning.
My eyes close crying every night.
My mind always turns dreams into nightmares.
My lungs contract too soon for me to catch my breath.
My worries far outweigh my years.
My brain feels overworked, overwrought, so tired.
My stomach cramps every night and I curl up in pain.
My knees weaken often but I'm still standing.
My mouth goes dry and I can't speak.
My hands dampen because I have too much to think about.
My bones feel weaker than they ever have before.
But I don't think it
Literature
After Words
"I wish you would give it back to me."
"Why? You'll just break it again."
"It's my heart. I will do whatever the hell I want with it."
"Yeah? Well, you take terrible care of things that are yours."
"Fine. Keep it. I am equal parts concrete and soul anyway."
"You say that, but I'm not entirely sure that you are. I think you're deep, and fragile and broken, and that makes you beautiful."
"Again, concrete and soul. "
"I wish you wouldn't make this so hard."
"So hard? I'm making this easy. You gave me dreams of half feathered swans and a stupid house on an endless beach and a city made of an ocean, and now you're taking it all away. But a
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not about myself but based on a friend of a friend
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Such perfect rhythm