Featured107
Time by Samantha Joan by HighFlyingSwallows, literature
Literature
Time by Samantha Joan
Time
By Samantha Joan
So much time has passed.
Though the pain is still completely there.. it's dulled now.
Rounded around the edges by the constant movement of time.
I lay here typing this, speaking to myself within my skull, forcing my fingers to move,
So that I can take this moment with me into the future.
So that the me in three months, a year, five years, will be able to look back at right here.
Right in this moment.
And remember this time, on August 16th at 12:55 in the morning.
I don't have to remember what exactly I was thinking at the time, what sad quote was rattling around in my chest, which boy I was fancying over or if I wa
The Trumpet and Sax by HighFlyingSwallows, literature
Literature
The Trumpet and Sax
Water of what we are, the bodies, in which we swim in.
Keeps us in the dry air- dry hope- where we open our eyes,
Get out of bed, get in our car, slave all day, go home, repeat.
Repeat repeat repeat re-re
Vinyl, we lay in between the ridges.
As if God moves the needle back to One
Again, again.
The orchestra starts up, beautiful music with melodies pouring out
Down the table legs.
We can hear the crackle of the vinyl every now
And then the rain falls.
White noise on the window's face.
Here we go, shhh
The show is starting.
Silence, the silence after the storm, you hear it then, too
Your frontal lobe is cool, with low rising
Pieces of Us by HighFlyingSwallows, literature
Literature
Pieces of Us
Pieces of us,
laying on the floor.
As I lay us out, piece by piece,
I see us fall open.
Open. Open. Open.
There's me on your back porch in the shade.
That's you passing me the cigarette I never thought I'd regret.
There's the lake,
there's the sun.
There's the street at night,
there's those nights I could walk around barefoot in a t-shirt.
There's the roof I'd climb onto.
The woods. The trees.
I smile. I smile. I smile.
The pieces of us are crumpled on the floor.
Sometimes by HighFlyingSwallows, literature
Literature
Sometimes
Sometimes
9.6.12
Sometimes, when it's sunny like this,
and you can hear the wind in the trees,
it's so hard to not just...
Run away from all this.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Run somewhere deep inside my mind,
where no one can find me.
Where I can be completely in solitude.
Where my tears turn into the air around me;
Nothing.
Sometimes it seems so easy.
Sometimes I feel like everyone could just continues their lives without my presence.
And sometimes, I'm completely okay with that.
For You.. by HighFlyingSwallows, literature
Literature
For You..
For you my dear...
For you I would move mountains,
Swim across the sea,
Find that needle in the haystack.
My words, though they may be weak,
Would shout to the highest Heavens,
Screaming your name.
My hands, though they may be small,
Would hold the heaviest burden,
Talking the pain on myself.
My heart, though it may be damaged,
Would give you everything it had left,
Making itself vulnerable and unprotected.
To you I'd give that gun,
I'd stand still, remove my walls,
Remove that bullet proof vest.
It is you I'd let place the gun up against my heart,
I'd stand still, close my eyes,
Not sure which decision you might make.
For
Little Bits of Sand by HighFlyingSwallows, literature
Literature
Little Bits of Sand
They claim to be made of tiny little pieces of sand,
mended together,
to make your worst enemy.
How could so many small particles give off such an ugly,
disgusting in size,
type image.
One glance and it just makes you sick,
physically sick- no,
emotionally sick- yes.
I want to be as tiny as those little pieces of sand.