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Literature Text
You stitched my lips today
So I could not speak
I sliced my slender throat
So I could still breathe
Dowsed acid in my eyes
So I could not see
But I reached out to touch her
She in turn touched me
You cut my ears today
I hear no birds sing
Or an infant's laughter
And the joy that brings
You bound my wrists and hands
Now they are red raw
I should blindly stumble
But still I stand tall
You sliced my fingertips
I can't feel her skin
The softness of her hair
The barrel of my pen
You broke my legs in two
Now I cannot walk
Nor can I see or hear
Feel or talk
You did all of these things
To keep me quiet
Yet the passion that stirs
Is as loud as a riot
Listen for the silence
That comes before the sound
Now feel for my touch
As I will never back down
So I could not speak
I sliced my slender throat
So I could still breathe
Dowsed acid in my eyes
So I could not see
But I reached out to touch her
She in turn touched me
You cut my ears today
I hear no birds sing
Or an infant's laughter
And the joy that brings
You bound my wrists and hands
Now they are red raw
I should blindly stumble
But still I stand tall
You sliced my fingertips
I can't feel her skin
The softness of her hair
The barrel of my pen
You broke my legs in two
Now I cannot walk
Nor can I see or hear
Feel or talk
You did all of these things
To keep me quiet
Yet the passion that stirs
Is as loud as a riot
Listen for the silence
That comes before the sound
Now feel for my touch
As I will never back down
Literature
Because I'm Blind
A young girl once asked a blind man, "Can you see?"
"Why, no, silly girl," the man replied. "I'm blind."
"I know that. Can you see?"
The man thought hard. He couldn't remember one moment when he had vision. "I'm sorry, my girl, but my eyes are broken. I don't understand what you mean."
"I guess you can't then..." The girl sighed, defeated.
She spent her whole life searching. She learned many languages and toured many countries during her mission, but none brought her to who she was looking for. One day, when she was old and retired, she sat on her front porch, feeling the soft breeze blow through her hair and listening to the soft c
Literature
How did you get those scars?
And I asked her,
"Do you remember
why I counted tiles-
sat in silence for hours,
wishing on the black holes
in my pockets?"
Stuttering against quiet delusions,
She bit a vintage tongue.
"Because,
I tried to bury myself alive that night,
just to engrave the taste of rose thorn monsters
between the cracks of my glass skin."
Licking dry lips,
She asked to taste them.
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.
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never back down
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This is truly amazing, I love the thought and effort your put into this.