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Literature Text
Jamie died today.
I don’t remember much about what had happened. Not much at all except the feel of his feverishly warm body thrusting against my own. The soft of his lips and the rough of his unshaven face, exploring the most sacred of places where only he⎯and he alone⎯was allowed to touch. I remember the rush of euphoria and colors dancing in my head, the sudden urge I had to show him how I loved him.
And before that, screaming and pure hatred. The blow of his palm across my face. The strong smell of alcohol filling up the small dingy space of our one bedroom apartment. I remember the sharp sting of a cigarette butt where it fell on my skin. Flickering fluorescent lights while Jamie pricked a needle into my veins. I remember how it had hurt at first, and how afterward, I didn’t mind at all. And neither did Jamie.
Before that, I remember Jamie growing colder. Jamie coming home late at night. Jamie refusing to talk. Jamie going off to places I didn’t know about. Jamie’s tongue down another bitch’s throat.
And before that, Jamie’s eyes whenever he looked at me, his expression when he told me what I meant to him. Staying up until four in the morning, talking, sharing life stories under the covers. Jamie’s laugh whenever I attempted a silly joke. My hand in his wherever we went.
And then Jamie died while we were high as the Empire State Building.
I can’t remember much but the way I shook him to wake up. The way he never did. The tears and mascara streaming down my face as I sobbed. His dark red blood on my hands.
One last thing I do remember is how I said goodbye to him. How I packed up my things and headed out our door. The confusion, the fear and trepidation my poor heart felt as I ran with all my might, certain they would catch me. They always do, even though it wasn’t my fault. Even though I am innocent. Jamie had done it. Jamie is to blame. It was the Jamie inside of me that is still alive.
Jamie, my guardian angel, my partner-in-crime who will never die.
I don’t remember much about what had happened. Not much at all except the feel of his feverishly warm body thrusting against my own. The soft of his lips and the rough of his unshaven face, exploring the most sacred of places where only he⎯and he alone⎯was allowed to touch. I remember the rush of euphoria and colors dancing in my head, the sudden urge I had to show him how I loved him.
And before that, screaming and pure hatred. The blow of his palm across my face. The strong smell of alcohol filling up the small dingy space of our one bedroom apartment. I remember the sharp sting of a cigarette butt where it fell on my skin. Flickering fluorescent lights while Jamie pricked a needle into my veins. I remember how it had hurt at first, and how afterward, I didn’t mind at all. And neither did Jamie.
Before that, I remember Jamie growing colder. Jamie coming home late at night. Jamie refusing to talk. Jamie going off to places I didn’t know about. Jamie’s tongue down another bitch’s throat.
And before that, Jamie’s eyes whenever he looked at me, his expression when he told me what I meant to him. Staying up until four in the morning, talking, sharing life stories under the covers. Jamie’s laugh whenever I attempted a silly joke. My hand in his wherever we went.
And then Jamie died while we were high as the Empire State Building.
I can’t remember much but the way I shook him to wake up. The way he never did. The tears and mascara streaming down my face as I sobbed. His dark red blood on my hands.
One last thing I do remember is how I said goodbye to him. How I packed up my things and headed out our door. The confusion, the fear and trepidation my poor heart felt as I ran with all my might, certain they would catch me. They always do, even though it wasn’t my fault. Even though I am innocent. Jamie had done it. Jamie is to blame. It was the Jamie inside of me that is still alive.
Jamie, my guardian angel, my partner-in-crime who will never die.
Literature
Love
Love
Flower, flower
Sweet, red and mine
You make my world spin
You make my words rhyme
Blossom, blossom
How pretty you are
The te
Literature
Love
Swirling down in a pool of yearning,
A straining heart never learning,
War between desire and sense always burning,
Distinction twixt the two never discerning.
Nonsensical words spoken with adoring eyes,
Spoken from a heart soaring though azure skies,
Teddy bears, flowers, and fervent sighs,
Upon their every glance our existence lives and dies.
Skies darken, fervor fades,
Words spoken of darker shades,
Sense and reason compromise bades,
Learning to live together weeding out our foolish charades.
Trust and understanding grounded in tender affection,
Years stretching before in one direction,
Together, two hearts, without deception
Literature
If the only words I have are I love you
If every day we're born,
and every night we die,
then imprint me in your first morn,
and here beside me lie.
If time will stay for just one day,
and every minute laughter rife,
then walk with me and not astray,
and share with me your life.
If time has brought you naught but harm-
has done naught but make you cry,
come fade here into my arms,
and here beside me die.
For here I stand as witness
to both your darkness and your light,
and happy company I am to confess
both "Good Morning" and "Goodnight
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Felt a little morbid, so I wrote this.
I assure you, this isn't based on my life. It doesn't contain THAT much mature content. Just marked it that way to be safe.
I assure you, this isn't based on my life. It doesn't contain THAT much mature content. Just marked it that way to be safe.
© 2013 - 2024 yoursingingsatellite
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Wow, I like! The quantity of the piece in no way affects the quality. I like the way you led us on the the details, but I think somethings are a bit too detailed:
I remember the sharp sting of a cigarette butt on my skin where I had accidentally dropped it.
In my opinion, it should be something more like, "I remember the sharp sting of a cigarette butt where it fell on my skin." Because I think the "where I accidentally dropped it" is a little wordy.
Other than the above, though I applaud your use of correct spelling and grammar, something not seen as often as it should.
Sorry for criticizing as my first comment, but I know how much I appreciate constructive criticism. Can't wait to see more from you! (I'm going to look through your gallery now. :3 )
I remember the sharp sting of a cigarette butt on my skin where I had accidentally dropped it.
In my opinion, it should be something more like, "I remember the sharp sting of a cigarette butt where it fell on my skin." Because I think the "where I accidentally dropped it" is a little wordy.
Other than the above, though I applaud your use of correct spelling and grammar, something not seen as often as it should.
Sorry for criticizing as my first comment, but I know how much I appreciate constructive criticism. Can't wait to see more from you! (I'm going to look through your gallery now. :3 )