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Literature Text
we're well enough
to stand alone
holding own
past the cold
we're alive
together whole
stitched up soul
wings spread
we're gone
into night
leaving light
hold on
we're bled
run dry
time to fly
angel mine
to stand alone
holding own
past the cold
we're alive
together whole
stitched up soul
wings spread
we're gone
into night
leaving light
hold on
we're bled
run dry
time to fly
angel mine
There's something about this poem.
The last stanza.
Something that I want to make real with something. Somehow. Make it more whole.
I can't explain it.
There's nothing flashy about the poem, in fact I plan on moving it to scraps.
But I like it. And then I don't.
I can't describe it.
I'm fond of it, I guess.
The last stanza.
Something that I want to make real with something. Somehow. Make it more whole.
I can't explain it.
There's nothing flashy about the poem, in fact I plan on moving it to scraps.
But I like it. And then I don't.
I can't describe it.
I'm fond of it, I guess.
© 2008 - 2024 xxvenit-anathemaxx
Comments5
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Agreed. Something about it that makes your hand automatically drift over and add this to your favorites.
I don't know either, I just know that I like it. ^^
I don't know either, I just know that I like it. ^^