LaWlStErS

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Porcelain Doll by LaWlStErS, literature

Literature

Porcelain Doll

She has spent her years taking care of me, brushing my long, black hair, keeping it pristine. I am her pride. She shows me off, places me upon a golden pedestal, where I sit every day for people to stare in marvel. I am her trust. She shares her stories with me, tells me about her day, and chuckles when she realizes there's nothing I could say. I am her life. She handles me with care, never allowing anyone else, to touch what she has worked so hard on, all by herself. I am her vigilance. She is not always around, and sometimes forgets about me, I can not do anything as I am tipped over by a strong breeze. I am her shock. She comes home t

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Dear once lover. by rociobelindamendez, literature

Literature

Dear once lover.

You stole my confidence; you took it like you owned it, you smothered it in neglect, and you threw it in the black hole of your absence. You used my patience; you smoked it like a drug, you took advantage of my presence, you evaporated us into nothing. You decapitated our relationship; you cut it at the root, you shook out all the good, and threw the body into your subconscious. You cut up my affections; you stored them in your selfishness, and turned them to dust. You broke my heart. You took it in your hands, you tore it into two, it turned cold as ice, and you shattered it across my future with you. You shocked me to my core, a surrea

Gossamer Shoestrings by Celera13, literature

Literature

Gossamer Shoestrings

I stand before you with cellophane skin and translucent eyes, offering you chunks of whatever's left of myself. I swear, I never felt so naked in my life. Please, look away while I try to reconstruct myself from the ruins of withered petals. Let me be beautiful again, Please. I'm still here in white houses with "Don't let the neighbors see" written on walls like reminders of red string wrapped around fingertips. Around necks. Fireflies house themselves here, swimming in the darkness of my head and carving themselves into my memory like heartache into heavy stone. And I sit here, counting numbers away. Waiting. Lumin