Ladies and gentlemen,
You are about to behold
The famous
Disappearing act!
My lovely assistant
Will vanish
Before your very eyes.
I am an illusion.
I am not a girl.
I am emptiness;
A negative exponent.
And the less you see of me
The more beautiful I'll be
And then I'll be
Gone.
Let the show begin!
My world is a whirlwind
Of fabric and threads,
Needles and pins,
And sewing machines.
I'll carve out my name
In a song
That you can't forget,
And you'll keep singing.
Love what I like
And lust what I wear.
You can have it a
Step behind me.
College is the Root of All Sadess by Vegetabelle, literature
Literature
College is the Root of All Sadess
My eyes feel like crying.
I'm lying on top of the sheets,
Curled up
In the clothes I've stolen from you.
(But it wasn't really stealing
Because you forgot them
Since I wore them so much.)
And I miss you,
But that isn't why
I want to cry.
There are so many things
I should be doing.
I should study
Or read
Ou finir mes devoirs.
And it's exhausting you know,
Getting bad grades
Because I'm not a mind-reader.
They tell me that
In order to do what I love,
I have to do lots of things
I don't love,
Because you won't go anywhere
Without a liberal arts education.
But everyone knows that
A bachelor's degree isn't impressive anymore.
Come back when y
Maybe I am meant
To only sing
Other people's hearts,
And keep my own
Contained in
Back-shelf memoirs,
Not to see the light,
Let alone reverberate
Into waiting hands
Performed from a stage.
I feel empty and depleted.
I am drained and so defeated.
I have nothing left.
It seems my heart wasn't enough.
Days are years with little sleeping
You say my character is steeping.
I have bled to fill
Your fountain pens. Dissect me again.
I'm burning out.
Back away.
I need space.
I need oxygen.
If you want the truth
Then start listening,
Because I can't scream much louder.
You have asked too much
And I'm drying up.
I'm reduced to embers.
But if you would just leave
Me room to breathe,
Then maybe I could recover.
I'm burning out.
Back away.
I need space.
I need oxygen.
If you want the truth
Then start listening,
Because I can't scream much
I was full of words.
I breathed them in
And they danced
On my tongue,
But it was too soon
To free them,
So I held my breath.
They burned their way
Into my lungs,
Trying to claw themselves
Out of my chest
But I choked them back,
And they suffocated.
Is That The Best You Can Do? by Vegetabelle, literature
Literature
Is That The Best You Can Do?
You call yourself
A rebel with a cause;
A unique voice against your oppressors;
A heart with a song worth hearing,
But the word-petals you throw
Down in front of your own feet
Are childish, Flower Girl.
Pick up those palm branches.
You can walk on the ground
Just like the rest of us, Your Holiness.
You aren't a savior.
You're just like everybody else, Snowflake.
I was afraid of that,
But I gave you a piece of my heart anyway.
It happens, whether you want it to
Or not, you know,
When you stay up all night
Telling all your secrets;
When you trust people;
When you believe in them.
And though I couldn't entertain the thought,
I couldn't help but fall in love a little.
When I told you that
I stand in the periphery,
You were so shocked-
(How could someone so vibrant
Not be the very sun?)
So surprised and appalled
When I told you that people get bored of me,
But it's been two months,
And you've already moved on
Four times.