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Literature Text
I could get over you
if I had to
but
it would be a long surgery,
involving many deep
incisions in order to extract
every bit of me that
contains a bit of you.
My green scrubs would
be an abstract painting
with blood, an emotional
portrayal of love lost.
Afterwards, my skin
would be a roadmap
of scars, looping and
criss-crossing, puffy
edges almost kissing.
You would be gone,
but I would be hollow,
empty of everything
that made life worth
living, a monument to pain.
I could get over you
if I had to but I am
not sure there would
be enough of me left
to carry on.
if I had to
but
it would be a long surgery,
involving many deep
incisions in order to extract
every bit of me that
contains a bit of you.
My green scrubs would
be an abstract painting
with blood, an emotional
portrayal of love lost.
Afterwards, my skin
would be a roadmap
of scars, looping and
criss-crossing, puffy
edges almost kissing.
You would be gone,
but I would be hollow,
empty of everything
that made life worth
living, a monument to pain.
I could get over you
if I had to but I am
not sure there would
be enough of me left
to carry on.
Literature
Insomnia
When sleep, like life, eludes me .......
...... life giving sleep overcomes everyone but me ....
life sapping concienceness drains me ....
My crimson shadowy wraith wakens and fills the slumber with it's grip of dark thoughts ... my mind races my soul cringes .....
The beauty of life but a twinkle in the crushing darkness of dispair ...... a flicker of light, the glimpse of a smile, the warmth of a touch ...... but a trickle .. like a single tear ....
............. the cold bitter dark, unrelenting throbbing, deafening, mindnumbing soul destroying pain!
....... like Ten thousand times Ten black holes ripping through the subatomic fibre
Literature
Insomnia
She felt as though
4am was a kind of peace
The harsh light of day barely prickling
At a horizon not yet ready to give up the dark
And a soul can rest
Bathed in the blue light
Of a monitor upon which
The heart could spill, showing forth to apathetic eyes
Sleep eludes her at these times
Giving away nothing
Eyes frantically wide
In a futile effort to convince herself it’s all for something
Literature
Nightmares
My heart races, erratically, lacking a proper rhythm.
A rhythm that could only be rendered by another heartbeat.
My soul soars frantically, searching for yours in a forlorn prison.
I strive on, praying, yearning, not ready to accept defeat.
I gaze into your eyes, longing for some sign of affection
I see nothing, because you feel nothing towards me.
I gave you my heart, trusting you to not break it, and you denied my attention.
Look at me now! I'm dead inside! What else could I possibly be!?
Twisted nightmares from the most morose parts of my mind start to form
I imagine that I am in a hospital bed, waiting for you to say farewell
You couldn
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(c) Jessica McGale
tWR:
Is the imagery consistent? Is it clear that I would be performing self-surgery? Is it choppy or difficult to read at all?
(c) Jessica McGale
tWR:
Is the imagery consistent? Is it clear that I would be performing self-surgery? Is it choppy or difficult to read at all?
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Comments25
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It is wonderful. The symbolism is wonderful, and the imagery also is quite good. I thought it was consistent. I think the whole thing is quite clear. I do.