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Literature Text
The house is almost naked.
These walls—
long hid by bookcases
are now bare
now flushed with sunlight
and empty of warm shadows cast by curtains
(those too are gone)
the walls remain
but not in the same way.
Little
white
sticker signs
mark all the taps, the doors, the water heater
warning against use
That copper drum was so full of boiling, glaring heat!
now it is cold and drained
they left a rusty stain of water
when they bled it.
It is not the emptiness
that aches
when the van leaves with the last boxes,
nor the nails that jaw the letterbox closed,
nor the keys that no longer fit.
But posters of disbanded bands on bedroom walls
discarded clothes—the books
we did not take,
they hurt.
The house is almost naked
from the outside you can see that
and the lowering sun has made all the white clouds gold
and one lamp in a brother’s bedroom
unlit,
casts its shadow on the sunlit wall.
These walls—
long hid by bookcases
are now bare
now flushed with sunlight
and empty of warm shadows cast by curtains
(those too are gone)
the walls remain
but not in the same way.
Little
white
sticker signs
mark all the taps, the doors, the water heater
warning against use
That copper drum was so full of boiling, glaring heat!
now it is cold and drained
they left a rusty stain of water
when they bled it.
It is not the emptiness
that aches
when the van leaves with the last boxes,
nor the nails that jaw the letterbox closed,
nor the keys that no longer fit.
But posters of disbanded bands on bedroom walls
discarded clothes—the books
we did not take,
they hurt.
The house is almost naked
from the outside you can see that
and the lowering sun has made all the white clouds gold
and one lamp in a brother’s bedroom
unlit,
casts its shadow on the sunlit wall.
Literature
lies, lies, lies
sometimes i wonder if love is nothing but
broken hearts and false smiles.
tell me you're happy when the silences are
louder than explosions.
tell me lies.
is it worth searching for something that
crumbles beneath
your fingers?
i keep drifting, i keep
spinning.
i keep -
i am lost and i have lost the truth.
slowly, it's
all
falling
apart.
[i look between everyone and
learn that happiness is not together].
Literature
abandonment issues
that small voice whispers
they love you until they don’t
everything splinters
Literature
Exult
Quick frissons of joy, like a harpist
on the planck scale.
The sun is out. All has
tunneled into green. I am
an animal, after all, and so
like the lambs in my mother’s field
I want to kick up my heels.
Spring wilds through me—-my marrow
puts forth flowers. Gold and springwater.
A little easy dopamine,
honey-suckle sweet, and look, God’s
got nothing on me.
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I finished growing up in a house in Great Yarmouth, on the East coast of England. I moved out for University, then got married a year later, but it remained my family home.
On the 23rd of October, my family were finally evicted after a long period of struggle and waiting. On 28th October, we had to get the good furniture and precious things out of the house and into storage. Some friends helped, because I am lucky in that I have very good friends.
It was a hard day.
On the 23rd of October, my family were finally evicted after a long period of struggle and waiting. On 28th October, we had to get the good furniture and precious things out of the house and into storage. Some friends helped, because I am lucky in that I have very good friends.
It was a hard day.
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