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Literature Text
why is it
that my mother can't stand the quiet
as we drive down the same
road as usual?
she talks and i nod, turn on
the radio to escape her endless banter.
and she
always finds a reason to say
things that hurt me
but not her.
i try not to listen, try not to yell
and cry and
(i paralyze time, inhale/exhale
this is just a 15 minute drive, and maybe
maybe she will understand.)
but she never realizes
i'm not a younger version of her,
a copy, with the same data installed.
that my mother can't stand the quiet
as we drive down the same
road as usual?
she talks and i nod, turn on
the radio to escape her endless banter.
and she
always finds a reason to say
things that hurt me
but not her.
i try not to listen, try not to yell
and cry and
(i paralyze time, inhale/exhale
this is just a 15 minute drive, and maybe
maybe she will understand.)
but she never realizes
i'm not a younger version of her,
a copy, with the same data installed.
Literature
in the box
is a brain, removed from shell
disconnected
from signal wires. still viable (?)
maybe.
blue teeth and instant grams
and gallons of conceit;
our granular portrait no longer flatters
unless dull spots and imperfections are rendered
out in the wash--
we mask and filter, ask and answer,
bask in banter
understanding no one ever even thinks
to change the thought they've already had.
old news, rotten
if revisited. inquisitive
minds have nothing better to do
but second guess assumptions,
better than first-blush conundrums
that don't fit the formula we've written
for how the world works;
it's absurd to think
this is where our
Literature
The Introvert's Curse
The Introvert’s Curse
As I sit in a room, alone, waiting;
I wonder what this day will bring.
Will there be excitement, laughter?
Adventure, exploration, action?
Excitement grows inside of me!
As I sit in a room, alone, waiting;
I realize that I am afraid of that.
What if something goes wrong?
Why did I make any plans at all?
I feel awkward, silent, uneasy.
As I sit in a room, alone, waiting;
I am convinced excitement is wrong.
Action, exploration, adventure?
I want them no longer; go away!
Silence; racing thoughts race away.
As I sit in a room, alone, waiting…
Literature
That word
One word.
That word.
You threw that word at me
Aimed with precision
To take full control.
You knew.
Which word.
Would vanquish my spirit,
Two syllables pierced
My worth and my whole.
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I feel like shit right now, and I am going to be whiny about it.
Please forgive me.
Please forgive me.
© 2012 - 2024 EternalSunday
Comments32
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It's terrible being in such circumstances without having the opportunity to escape. Sometimes I've got similar problems with my father. I actually think that all people project their own expectations onto others until a certain degree. But the problem with parents is that their opinion matters the most apparently. (At least as long as we're 'still living under their roof'.)
I hope the relationship with your mother became better!
I hope the relationship with your mother became better!