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Memories dwindle down like constellations in a smoky city sky.
Soon there's nothing left to go on,
nothing recognizable.
and it hurts; growing pains
stretching from head to toe
to fit hand-me-downs
as full of extra space as your wallet.
Childhood is golden,
because you never needed gold.
All you needed was a hair-ful of sun.
Soon there's nothing left to go on,
nothing recognizable.
and it hurts; growing pains
stretching from head to toe
to fit hand-me-downs
as full of extra space as your wallet.
Childhood is golden,
because you never needed gold.
All you needed was a hair-ful of sun.
More on the Challenge:
11:00 PM ChallengeSo this is what I'm doing:
At 11 PM every night, I am going to write something.
It might not be good. It might even be the worse possible thing ever.
But the point is, I'm going to write.
It will be posted in my journal every day.
This is probably going to be a one month challenge.
So on the 15th of September, we will see what I come up with in my caffeinated, sleep-deprived stupor.
Wish me luck, guys.
DAY 24 '11:00 PM Challenge'
I am awful. I have missed the deadline again.
I suppose I could use this day of the challenge to write an apology. I mean, I haven't been keeping up as well as I thought I would. School is piling, and so is work, and 11PM is when I finally get home. I'm exhausted, and I need a nap. Being an adult is hard.
Hmmm....
Maybe I'll write about that later on....
DAY 23 '11:00 PM Challenge'
My mind is blocked.
The hour has struck 11, so I will just spew random words on paper.
Hair has grown from my hand.
It is coarse and thick and painful.
My skin opens to accommodate it and all of it's
Beauty.
The hair is long now,
at least 2 years long.
But if I pull it, I fear it will tug my skeleton out of me.
It has become a part of me.
More on the Challenge:
DAY 22 '11:00 PM Challenge'
To the man who called me "Hun" today
for the third time this week,
Stop.
I am not your Hun, your Sweetie, or your Darling.
I don't iron your clothes or pour sugar in your coffee
or pass you passive smiles on the sofa.
We don't have a dog named Spot,
we don't share a bank account,
and there are no racy photos or sweaty nights between us.
I am not the Bonnie to your Clyde.
I am your cashier.
And buying condoms every day with a wink doesn't help your case either.
It is not friendly.
It is disgusting.
More on the Challenge:
DAY 21 '11:00 PM Challenge'
I got a man who hums in the moonlight
and tickles my ivories.
Who refuses to say "cheese"
but smiles hard at friction
between people,
between stars,
between skin.
Who inhales grays and exhales blues
and twists red around his finger like a boa constrictor.
I got a man who listens to J-Pop full blast
while whispering in my ear
that love is a strange language.
More on the Challenge:
© 2014 - 2024 Emerald-Alexandria
Comments2
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You do a wonderful job here evoking a whimsical sad emotional mix.
The imagery you use is astounding as always. Nicely written.
-C
The imagery you use is astounding as always. Nicely written.
-C