She liked sad stories best -
the ones that ended (naturally)
in hopeful death and loosened souls.
She grew cold with little matchgirls,
grim with fairytale endings
and read Oscar Wilde
tented in bed on warm afternoons.
Her story, she reasoned,
should end like these -
wreathed in the simple beads
of prose, stark and enduring.














Comments
I'm not quite sure what the word would be for it, but it's reminding me of something quite lovely. ^^ It's one of the more interesting things I've seen today.
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[Philippians 1:21]
No problem at all. ^^
I like this one a lot, regardless of your more negative opinion.
Fav line: "the ones that ended (naturally)"
The "naturally" creates a cool image of dying among tries and nature and such, I dunno, melding back into the world.
I don't really have any suggestions--the last two lines bother me, for some reason, but I can't put my finger on what. SO I'll let it be!
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my past--I--/am stuck in/things of thousand words/concert girls/known and unknown/hair brown to black to blonde/far away/and hating me/and goodbye.
I'm glad you like it, though.
--
[Philippians 1:21]
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God is love - but we've forgotten God and so we've forgotten how to truly love.
--
[Philippians 1:21]
I like sad strories best, too.
Thank you
--
[Philippians 1:21]
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