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Literature Text
Fingertips brush away stray hairs, arms are secure around her shoulders
He watches her, like her own dearest angel
While he sleeps on the other side of the world, his sleeping seconds belong to her
He wants her to claim him, sending living hints in his waking words
She puts to clues together but doubts their reality
Frustrated sighs in the sun and under the clouds
Their separate reasons are close to the same revelation
They are each other, connected by unseen fibers stretching
Threatening to snap them together
He draws the curve of her smile in his mind, the shine in her eyes
She tries to taste him around her, not quite failing nor quite succeeding
Clueless wandering, orbiting around her
Hysteria rising in his throat, he screams against her skin
Cries into her neck, she only feels the memory of whispers
Locking his eyes on her face, he steps back to reality
Dreaming of when she’ll join him there
He watches her, like her own dearest angel
While he sleeps on the other side of the world, his sleeping seconds belong to her
He wants her to claim him, sending living hints in his waking words
She puts to clues together but doubts their reality
Frustrated sighs in the sun and under the clouds
Their separate reasons are close to the same revelation
They are each other, connected by unseen fibers stretching
Threatening to snap them together
He draws the curve of her smile in his mind, the shine in her eyes
She tries to taste him around her, not quite failing nor quite succeeding
Clueless wandering, orbiting around her
Hysteria rising in his throat, he screams against her skin
Cries into her neck, she only feels the memory of whispers
Locking his eyes on her face, he steps back to reality
Dreaming of when she’ll join him there
Literature
Poor Deprived People
"Keep writing." Prosper told Blaire, in a voice that should have meant he was angry, but was ruined by the grin on his face.
"My hand hurts!" Blaire exclaimed, blowing her hair out of her face with an irritated huff, "And I've already written down a million of these!"
"Not enough," Prosper said. "If you're going to have any music and movie taste at all, we've got a long way to go."
"For the last time, my music and movie taste is fine." She looked down at the list of movies and bands before her on the table. Apparently, according to Prosper, her knowledge of movies was so poor that action needed to be taken at that very second. She didn
Literature
Another Quirk
"C'mon, Blaire," said Prosper. "Just one more time, I promise."
Blaire crossed her arms and shook her head stubbornly at him. She'd been humiliated enough by this stupid "lesson" that he'd insisted on having.
"Fine. How about a deal? You try again, and I'll tell you where I got this scar." Prosper said, pointing to his eyebrow and holding out the soccer ball with his other hand. Blaire bit her lip. She was sick of looking like an idiot...but she really wanted to know where that scar came from. She had asked him a million times already, but he would just grin at her and change the subject. She huffed irritably and blew her
Literature
Real
When they met it was on accident.
Her heel caught in a crack on the old sidewalk that was full of them, and her books fell out of her hands and hit the ground almost rhythmically. He thinks that it's the perfect way to meet someone, cliche and nothing embarrassing.
She's had enough cliches to last her a lifetime, and she thinks little of it.
...........
She thinks little of him, to be honest. He is kind and a gentleman, and, at their first meeting, utterly boring. However, boring has a new appeal for her, which is why they meet a second time.
...........
She doesn't realize how much time she spends with him until she calls him one night
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Meh...it is short.
EDIT:
Wow. I mean...wow. Thanks to all the faves!!
I've been getting a lot of "what is this poem about?" so here is the scoop:
Ever had that feeling like someone is watching you? I've been feeling that lately and wrote this off the guy's perspective...He is alive but a world across from her. He dreams about her and his mind constantly drifts to her. She knows someone is watching out for her but doesn't know who and it is driving them both a little mad.
Reply
EDIT:
Wow. I mean...wow. Thanks to all the faves!!
I've been getting a lot of "what is this poem about?" so here is the scoop:
Ever had that feeling like someone is watching you? I've been feeling that lately and wrote this off the guy's perspective...He is alive but a world across from her. He dreams about her and his mind constantly drifts to her. She knows someone is watching out for her but doesn't know who and it is driving them both a little mad.
Reply
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this is amazing, and exactly how myself and my boyfriend feel while being on separate continents currectly... thank you, this almost made me cry...