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Literature Text
I am from the worn-down pages of fairytales
And the cobweb dust in ceiling corners.
I am from street-red lipstick in a plastic tube,
And from highways chasing the horizon behind me.
I am from half-filled notebooks
And deep, rough voices singing me love songs from a broken radio.
I am from competitions and black belts and bruised skin.
I am from pennies saved in a jar
And from ink staining my fingers.
I am from visions of fame and lonely graves.
I am from ancient stones and knights in shining armor.
I am from hot water burns across my body.
I am from teasing last year's English teacher
And thanking God he can take a joke and give one in turn.
I am from silence.
I am from faked smiles and blistered tongues.
I am from wearing bizarre clothes
And from laughing too hard to prove my existance.
I am from camoflage.
I am from a drained ink pen and drowning in my own words.
I am from a bottle of red hair dye
Hidden since Christmas.
I am from rainy days,
And from dreams of bridges I haven't crossed.
I am from dreams of being a movie star.
I am from the almost daily quote, "Everybody wants to be a pop star."
I am from constant sneers
And arguments that bring down the roof.
I come from imaginary friends.
And the cobweb dust in ceiling corners.
I am from street-red lipstick in a plastic tube,
And from highways chasing the horizon behind me.
I am from half-filled notebooks
And deep, rough voices singing me love songs from a broken radio.
I am from competitions and black belts and bruised skin.
I am from pennies saved in a jar
And from ink staining my fingers.
I am from visions of fame and lonely graves.
I am from ancient stones and knights in shining armor.
I am from hot water burns across my body.
I am from teasing last year's English teacher
And thanking God he can take a joke and give one in turn.
I am from silence.
I am from faked smiles and blistered tongues.
I am from wearing bizarre clothes
And from laughing too hard to prove my existance.
I am from camoflage.
I am from a drained ink pen and drowning in my own words.
I am from a bottle of red hair dye
Hidden since Christmas.
I am from rainy days,
And from dreams of bridges I haven't crossed.
I am from dreams of being a movie star.
I am from the almost daily quote, "Everybody wants to be a pop star."
I am from constant sneers
And arguments that bring down the roof.
I come from imaginary friends.
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Comments7
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Hello, I am from #BuildingBetterPoets and I thoroughly agree with ~winterkate. This poem is absolutely lovely. I found myself relating to a few lines and then speechless about others. I was kept on the edge of my seat, trying to see where this piece of literature was going and at the end when I read the last line "I come from imaginary friends" my mind exploded. So many thoughts came to my head. I do feel, like ~winterkate, the end was chopped short.. But in a sense, I love how it ended because I was still thinking about it even when I was done reading. Like, are her imaginary friends from books? From her mind? Or maybe she has schizophrenia? It's very touching and very memorable. It's stuck in my head forever now! Haha C:
I have no negative criticism.
I have no negative criticism.