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Literature Text
שנים רבות עברו מאז והפכו לעשורים
רק זיכרונות כואבים נשארו מאותם המעשים
הדורות התחלפו והנה המעשים כמעט והם נשכחים
אך הזיכרון מנסה להיאחז כדי לא לדעוך מנפשות החיים
היינו עם חזק ונישאר עם חזק רק אם לא נשכח את הגיבורים
רק זיכרונות כואבים נשארו מאותם המעשים
הדורות התחלפו והנה המעשים כמעט והם נשכחים
אך הזיכרון מנסה להיאחז כדי לא לדעוך מנפשות החיים
היינו עם חזק ונישאר עם חזק רק אם לא נשכח את הגיבורים
Literature
we're never what we think.
at least twice a day, i find myself wishing i was less.
less of a worrier.
less of a lover.
less of a mess.
all of this would be so much better, if the disconnect between
what i want and what i have would close because then things
would be simple for the first time in years. and i could inhale
without wondering what kind of consequences it will have five
minutes from now. you can only imagine what really goes
through my mind in the time it'll take you to breathe in and
out. now hold it. like i've been holding this thought for months—
the girl i was is quickly vanishing.
i've been holding it like a secret on the tip of
Literature
reality?
You want me to save
The person you all see;
I'm dying to save
The girl I'll never be.
Literature
November Cold
November sinks its icy fingers
Between my shoulder blades
And an ache blossoms inside of me.
I imagine a lacy white filigree of frost
Growing over my lungs,
Spidering over my veins
And up into my heart.
The cold crawls up my throat
So that when I breathe
I half expect snowflakes and hoarfrost
To fall from my lips.
I've got an ice-heavy heart in me
And I am breathing winter,
Wondering if my tears would freeze
If they even fell at all.
Help me shake November's chill.
Blaze passion and fire into me
And never let me pull away from the heat of you
Kiss away the rime of ice that coats me
Sink your fingers into my skin
So
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