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Breathe Again by artgirl7777, literature
Literature
Breathe Again
She was the proud owner of a Laundromat connected to a small room in the back that she called home. Working alongside her husband until he became too sick, and then she ran it herself. That was before the place went out of business. A small, family-owned Laundromat was not in demand in this part of Queens – the Queen has too many of those. So instead, she worked in a factory on the outskirts of Chinatown making patterns of clothing so hundreds of other seamstresses can copy it. She would work from nine to seven, making five dollars an hour – and that was only after ten years of working there. After work, she would attend classes at
Keep Running, My Dear by artgirl7777, literature
Literature
Keep Running, My Dear
I remember when you were still innocent and naïve,
when you still wanted to know about all there is to know
about the universe. You wanted to know about Gallifrey.
You wanted to know about my house that was perched
halfway up the top of a mountain that was covered
in fields of deep red grass, capped with snow. The rocks
were red, brown and purple and gold. And the look on your
face when I said there were two suns! When the second
sun would rise, that mountain would shine, and the forest
filled with silver-leafed trees seemed to be on fire.
All of it is gone now, taken away from me, locked on the other
side of time and reality
Listening to the Wind by artgirl7777, literature
Literature
Listening to the Wind
We could run around in a field of daffodils
playing hide and seek, but we're too tall
to ever stay hidden. Giants running around
in a village with huts made of straw and mud.
The wind was chasing me instead of you
and it whistled, telling me to not look back. I listened.
One giant remains, I suppose. But without you
I don't have a place that's safe from all the monsters
that hide in my head and sing me to sleep.
And now they're telling me about the lovely wheat
fields that could be explored without you. The sky
will be bright and cloudless. The sun will turn ochre
and beat down on my back, hoping I will become
the color of beets.
The Silence by artgirl7777, literature
Literature
The Silence
Alright, it's just me and you. Would you stop sucking all the life out of the room? Your stupid mouth doesn't even exist unless you decide to kill. And when it does, your skin rips apart creating a spider's web made out of flesh or whatever you're made out of. And don't you look classy with that sharp suit of yours? So sharp that everything you touch will turn into a fine dust. And that's why I'm staying the hell away from you.
But how can I fight you if the second I look away, I forget?
You don't say much. I'll just do all the talking, and running. You're not going to catch me. But everything does eventually. Shut up. Just tilt your head
Perfect Weather by artgirl7777, literature
Literature
Perfect Weather
You sit at the corner of Jefferson and Adams
waiting for the myriad raindrops to drench your hair
and watch the local lawyer and raggedy school teacher
rush into the courtroom for a speeding ticket hearing.
The abandoned 7-Eleven Slushie cup moves down the quick
river like the plans of someone who cares about you.
Over the hilltops, brightness seeps through a bunny-shaped cloud
past threatening thunderstorms. A small British car,
racing through the flooding parking lot, splashes
muddy water onto the sidewalk, onto you. Andy
says that your home belongs to him and his tulips full of pollen
that soak in sunlight and drink in rain. You