literature

comets in my head again

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Nullibicity's avatar
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Literature Text

There are bruises on my legs again.

Maybe I tried too hard for the stars - struck hemispheres of dreaming too big - while I count one, two, three, four, five shiners on my legs, ten lookers on each arm (your jointed peals of rage) and, probably, forty-four on my heart – though it’s not like I ever counted the number of times you beat me down, before.

It never did matter if I was enough for the 16 years - or for the Escitalopram - because I was never a star jumper that could  trade in comets for the cratered, disfigured life of meteors.


There are bruises on my legs again, and I think I should stop dreaming.

WHAT? I wrote prose?
Yes. and quite horribly. However, thoughts would still be appreciated. Inspired from the way my legs always seem to sport bruises (I knock them on everything - it's a wonder they still work).

:bulletpurple: I kind of want the "and I think I should stop dreaming" to have more of an impact... however, I'm unsure what to do. Your thoughts? Or did it strike you well enough in the repetition of the idea?
:bulletpurple: Weak spots? I know there's probably millions, so please feel free to tell me!


Thank you so much for your time. :rose:

~ Critique, as always, is deeply appreciated :blowkiss: ~

 

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karonadela's avatar
Ooooh,fantastic xx