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Literature Text
No you can’t do that!
No you can’t have that!
No we can’t afford that!
No that’s not healthy for you!
No you can’t stay up that late!
No you need to loose at least five more pounds!
No that college won’t accept your lazy self!
No that’s not perfect!
No a ‘98’ can’t be your best!
No you can’t make a living from writing!
No you can’t do what you dream!
No, no, no, no, NO!
I’m so tired of ‘No’!
Yes you can just sit there like a good girl.
Yes you can eat all these protein shakes and vitamins.
Yes you can be the perfect person I want.
Yes I’ll go take a bunch of advanced classes I’ll never pass.
Yes I’ll go become an engineer like everyone else.
Yes I’ll give up on my dreams cause they’re stupid.
Is that what it will take to get a ‘Yes’ around here?
Literature
Stand Against Suicide
I know the pain is perhaps unbearable,
But darling, please put down the blade.
Release your emotions through tears and smiles,
Rather than dreading these days.
Do it for the little girl, whose mother can’t be there,
Or for the boy whose father drank too much.
For the boy who can’t sit in elementary school,
Because the bruises from Daddy hurt to touch.
For the teenage girl lying face down in her bed,
Thinking, why can’t it all be done?
For the elderly man looking up at the stars,
Counting the days one by one.
Do it for the children who wonder, does it end?
For the ones who feel left on their own.
For the ones who think, maybe
Literature
you have seven days to live.
1.the news doesn't hurt:
it's his eyes that hurt you,
the glimmer of his past
creeping in just like
his father used to creep in
at three a.m.
with a sin on his mind
and rage on his hands.
he waits for you to react,
but you don't
because he's suddenly seven again,
hiding bruises
while mommy cries
in a ball on the couch.
2.you think time
is a funny thing.
people talk about it
like it is an object:
"I need more time," they say,
like they will go to the store later
and buy more.
but you know that time
is more like an ocean wave,
with an endless
pounding that continues
long after we greet the dirt,
and we want more time,
but time doesn't want
Literature
The Monsters
The monsters were never
under my bed.
Because the monsters
were inside my head.
I fear no monsters,
for no monsters I see.
Because all this time
the monster has been me.
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Comments45
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And that is why I said "no" to society and their ideals of "perfection". It's a load of bullshit.