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Literature Text
The muscle can tear and heal like magic
Stronger than ever before,
I ponder the fact and I think it's tragic,
The mind cannot be restored.
Once attacked; damaged, broken, despaired,
Like cancer, can spread to the soul.
So complicated yet can't be repaired,
It threatens to swallow you whole.
No pills, no plasters, surgery, casts.
And it cannot heal on its own.
So how to protect it I must ask,
To a danger of which we're all prone?
Sin and tragedy, suffering, pain.
We must take the bad with the good.
And since we are human I question again,
Because I've never quite understood.
Resisting corruption, you'd have to be blind.
Wear a shield for the rest of your life.
Or Strengthen and train, this muscle, your mind.
Protect it from tragedy's knife.
Beware over-lifting for it could still tear,
This burden of life is no sport.
When you feel yourself buckle and you cannot bear,
Reach out and ask for support.
ravingroshie.deviantart.com
Stronger than ever before,
I ponder the fact and I think it's tragic,
The mind cannot be restored.
Once attacked; damaged, broken, despaired,
Like cancer, can spread to the soul.
So complicated yet can't be repaired,
It threatens to swallow you whole.
No pills, no plasters, surgery, casts.
And it cannot heal on its own.
So how to protect it I must ask,
To a danger of which we're all prone?
Sin and tragedy, suffering, pain.
We must take the bad with the good.
And since we are human I question again,
Because I've never quite understood.
Resisting corruption, you'd have to be blind.
Wear a shield for the rest of your life.
Or Strengthen and train, this muscle, your mind.
Protect it from tragedy's knife.
Beware over-lifting for it could still tear,
This burden of life is no sport.
When you feel yourself buckle and you cannot bear,
Reach out and ask for support.
ravingroshie.deviantart.com
Literature
Wounds and scars
Wounds
Heal over time
But scars
Are forever
Because no matter
How hard you try
You can't wash away
A scar
It's there
Hidden in plain sight
A testimony
Of your past
A memory
Of a painful moment
You can love them
And be proud
Or you can hate them
And be ashamed
I have many already
And many more will come
But I'm not ashamed
Because they are a part of me
A precious part of my life
Literature
I never cry in the daylight
I know what it is to die,
curled up on the bed with the sheets
strewn about, leaking regret
into a pillow case
while daylight shines
through the window
as if everything is ordinary—
as if nothing died and
the world is as beautiful and
logical as ever.
I know what it is to sit
in a lonely room
with a dim lamp for light,
wanting desperately to cry,
but only able to sit
in silence as the nausea gnaws
and the images of toxic cleaner fluid
cocktails won’t subside
and cars keep driving by
outside the window,
their ghostly headlights
illuminating the darkness—
reminders that some people
still have a reason.
I know what
Literature
Automatic
"Darling"
You say
In perfect syncopation with
Glass shattering in my bloodstream
"I'm sorry"
Rasping
Captivating
Nauseating
Distance and indifference
Bleeding through the wallpaper
As I bend silver hair clips into geometric nonsense
"For everything."
Your fingerprints indelible on my jawline
"I was never"
The taste of ammunition
"Angry at you."
As raw broken bones
Fractured clear through the marrow.
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