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Literature Text
Self-destructing Ant Farm
Friendship built on an instance, nothing but voids of self-doubt and paranoia of indifference.
I watch from outside of the glass, unnoticed and secluded, analyzing the ants form their cast.
Swarming together, avoiding the shatter, pretending to be a scatter.
I magnify the glass to see what hides, revealing a nature that can’t survive.
Like ants on a sugar cube they gather, making them no different from another.
The need to cling and form a pack is the fear of veering from an open path.
Choosing to follow will cause them to hollow.
Their marching on as they grow in numbers, but their size will be their blunder.
Above, below, left, right all are suffocating by this lie.
A self-preserving lie you rather defy/ Knowing that it’s a sugarcoated life.
Friendship built on an instance, nothing but voids of self-doubt and paranoia of indifference.
I watch from outside of the glass, unnoticed and secluded, analyzing the ants form their cast.
Swarming together, avoiding the shatter, pretending to be a scatter.
I magnify the glass to see what hides, revealing a nature that can’t survive.
Like ants on a sugar cube they gather, making them no different from another.
The need to cling and form a pack is the fear of veering from an open path.
Choosing to follow will cause them to hollow.
Their marching on as they grow in numbers, but their size will be their blunder.
Above, below, left, right all are suffocating by this lie.
A self-preserving lie you rather defy/ Knowing that it’s a sugarcoated life.
Literature
Blankness
there's something so ethereal about blankness
the form untouched, limitless in it's anxiety
slowly dissolving into specificity, scarred indefinitely by meaningful gesture
twisted and wronged by inexact strokes of impulse
we are but human to this manufactured parapet of virginity
we could do nothing but destroy it, instantly, slowly, and with resolve
untouched it is a monument to nothingness, to malaise and stagnation
but once soiled it is neither conquest nor resolution
simply devalued by meaning, its infinity removed
potential drained from the fine form, though still square and true
now tattooed by uncertainty, a great reaching out
Literature
A Notepage in Your Heart
I saw you today,
Your eyes seemed lost in the fray.
More than usual,
They're always lost,
But more than usual.
I saw you today,
That little booklet you read.
I looked on,
Why,
Why have I been so ignorant.
To write love on her arms.
Why can't I help?
I saw you today,
You hid from me,
I ignored you.
I'm one of the many,
I'm one of the triggers,
Why can't I help?
My feet nailed down,
My mouth sewn shut,
Why do I act so stubborn,
I couldn't I see you bleeding earlier.
Why?
I've been so rude,
An awful attitude,
To someone who hurts,
Someone who needs love,
Unrequited.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
Come to me one more time.
Y
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This is my life... I walk the halls of a college no different than high school. A place that is consumed with cliques. I thought I could escape such a pitiful form of human attachment, but I was wrong. Luckily, I wont be at this college for much longer, until I transfer.
© 2006 - 2024 SoundofSanity
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