literature

The Last Word

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xgoldenmoonx's avatar
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Published:
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Literature Text

I give myself five minutes to let out
the words hiding under my tongue, getting
tangled in the stitches in the back of my throat.
I spent too many minutes of my life
wondering what if, and not so many dreaming.
I close the book to my mind and
set it in the corner, because I know four
minutes is not enough time to heal.
Sometimes I forget how to spell, I
forget verbs but my sentences will drag on
as a banner of self-expression. I write
letters on post-its because paper is too dull
for me and I wish the world could see through
my glasses with me for the last three minutes.
When you catch my eye I will tilt my
head down and blush because eyes are the
windows to different universes that I may not
want to share with anyone yet. I always
pictured meeting my heart at a coffee shop
but for now I'll take two more and tell you
I am married to books. My mistress is
a pillow to rest my head on and really in
this last minute what is left to say? I
can't explain myself any other way and I hope
you will understand. The intent and motives refuse
to give themselves up, so if I am a mystery it
best be let alone. Know that I love you and in
the final second, have much to grow upon.
title: unsure. I don't like this one. Really. This is still raw. Especially the title.

The final poem of my semester long journal for arts and healing. I chose to write this in first person as an act of closure. Everything else has been in third. It mirrors my livejournal, but my livejournal is less tempered than this has to be, since this is getting turned in for a grade.
Does this all make sense? I'm tired of trying to make sense.


I am in love with This is Not an Elegy by Catherine Pierce.
© 2009 - 2024 xgoldenmoonx
Comments3
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NioTheDreamer's avatar
the person sounds very withdrawn and like they are putting up a barrier to some new love