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Literature Text
i. men fear strong women,
but she's far from strong.
this wisp of a girl
doesn't even need a hurricane
to fall apart.
she'd glued and re-glued,
old bonds wearing thin,
but if you ask politely,
she'll let you touch her scars.
ii. her lips are fettered in rusted chains.
you'd need a crowbar to pry up
her whispered secrets.
you are not worthy to hear her voice
just as she is not worthy to give it to you.
she told me everything she knows,
and i shut it away,
kept it safe.
i tied the threads into double knots
just to make sure
they wouldn't curl away from me,
twisted up like a dead spider's legs.
iii. she is hewn from shadow,
woven from grains of sand.
you might think she'd flow,
breeze by on a sparrow's breath,
but she's never been good at
anything but sinking.
she is buried treasure, and all
the things you wish you could forget.
iv. you found her washed up on the shore,
drawing pictures of her flickering soul,
and knew she was too unsteady to love.
when you reached for her heart,
your hands got cut and tangled
in her splintered ribcage
you smiled at your bleeding fingers
because you've always loved a challenge.
but she's far from strong.
this wisp of a girl
doesn't even need a hurricane
to fall apart.
she'd glued and re-glued,
old bonds wearing thin,
but if you ask politely,
she'll let you touch her scars.
ii. her lips are fettered in rusted chains.
you'd need a crowbar to pry up
her whispered secrets.
you are not worthy to hear her voice
just as she is not worthy to give it to you.
she told me everything she knows,
and i shut it away,
kept it safe.
i tied the threads into double knots
just to make sure
they wouldn't curl away from me,
twisted up like a dead spider's legs.
iii. she is hewn from shadow,
woven from grains of sand.
you might think she'd flow,
breeze by on a sparrow's breath,
but she's never been good at
anything but sinking.
she is buried treasure, and all
the things you wish you could forget.
iv. you found her washed up on the shore,
drawing pictures of her flickering soul,
and knew she was too unsteady to love.
when you reached for her heart,
your hands got cut and tangled
in her splintered ribcage
you smiled at your bleeding fingers
because you've always loved a challenge.
Literature
The Girl Who Was Afraid To Be
She speaks to me fondly
of passions and talents,
of guitars and stars,
with such breathless intensity
then stops short and
apologises
for speaking at all.
All because somewhere in her life,
someone she loved broke her heart
by ignoring
her beautiful words
and telling her to
shut up,
keep it down,
nobody cares.
People aren’t born sad.
We make them that way.
Literature
I Am
I am single,
but I am loved.
I am not a genius,
but I am intelligent.
I am not breathtaking,
but I have beauty.
I am not a saint,
but I am kind.
To the world,
I am not perfect.
But for someone,
I am.
Literature
How to love a girl who can't love herself.
one.
When she cries herself to sleep
six out of seven nights a week you must
say nothing. You must simply take
her in your arms and kiss her gaunt,
pale cheeks and wait for her to
slumber at the sound of your heart.
two.
On the days where she wishes she
were part of the stars, tell her
no. Tell her that there are too many
lights in the sky and that just one
would be forgotten the moment you looked
away from it. Tell her that she is perfect
the way she is: completely human.
three.
Don't let her think about the scars
that no one but her can see. If she
says
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raise your hand if you're shy and insecure! *raises hand*
I have no idea where this came from but ehh here it is. I know I haven't been updating recently, but it's been crazy here with the holidays coming and all. my family is so dysfunctional it's not even funny.
anyway, how did i do with this? good? bad? let me know! i love your feedback.
EDIT: I've found that so many of you guys relate to this poem! Us artsy types are usually shy, I suppose. You are all lovely people; I can't thank you enough for your support.
Also, a few people were confused on the meaning of this poem, so I'll include my explanation for it here as well:
The woman in this poem is meant to be viewed as quiet, timid, and demure on the outside. It isn't to say that this woman isn't strong; I tried to keep her personality out of the poem because I wanted to focus on how shyness appears from an outside perspective. I also don't mean to imply that shy women in general are weak, because that's just not true. This particular shy girl comes across as weak. That's all. The thing about men, though, is something I've heard said by many different people in my life. Hearing them say that is kind of what inspired me to write this, as a matter of fact!
The first stanza is meant to describe how being shy makes the girl seem weak. The second describes how she's quiet, and keeps her thoughts to herself. The third represents the way she is easily lost in a crowd, and fragile-looking. The final stanza, with her drawing pictures on a shore alone, is supposed to show how she feels lonely deep down. Her splintered ribcage represents the ways she tries to distance herself from others.
If you find the guy at the end creepy, that's good. I guess I wanted to make the poem seem like an advertisement directed toward a not-so-good man as to why a shy girl would make an excellent "victim" for him. It is a little rough and I think some parts need a rewrite to make my point more clear.
Yeah...sorry for any confusion. I hope I didn't offend anyone.
Thank you for all your wonderful comments. I haven't had time to reply to them all, but I've read each and every one. I appreciate all of your support.
© 2013 littleblueraccoon
© 2013 - 2024 littleblueraccoon
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[I'm definitely shy, introverted, and insecure.]