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Literature Text
Days seem to be longer here.
Twenty-one days move gradually past and still the eyes won't disappear.
Fifty-one days walk slowly in my vision and little kitten eyes turn to fierce cat pupils.
- Maybe it's the sight of the brick wall rusting or the slow and quiet dripping from the moldy pipes. Maybe it could be the saw dust trucks edging carefully to and from the garages' doors.
There are a lot of reasons that my days here move at a snail's pace. But reasons I can never seem to erase from my head are the curious eyes that always stare. The little blonde wisps peek from around the wall's corner. Tiny kitten eyes and shiny, pearly skin glimmer from afar.
The curious kitten gapes past the dew glazed grass and onto my limp frame. I flip on my hood, ignoring the eyes, but always fail; catching myself watching those little kitten eyes.
Twenty-one days move gradually past and still the eyes won't disappear.
- Rain pours violently and umbrella wires show. The tiny blonde wisps fall flat in a yellow stream, and glowing kitten eyes reflect a dirty face, dripping in black, and lost in a maze. Why is my face in that little kitten's gaze?
Fifty-one days walk slowly in my vision and little kitten eyes turn to fierce cat pupils.
Sharp eyes stare, as long as the days; yearning for no better. The wisps grow in length and morph into hair, as the pearly skin fills out with stone fallen bare. The curious eyes turn to a wanting daze, but I still find myself watching little kitten eyes.
So I found this poem I wrote awhile back. I probably uploaded it on another account, but since I found it again and I couldn't help but edit it and put it back up.
I love this poem ♥
It's about a poor little girl that has grown up with a little admirer. Who grows up to be not so little anymore.
SPOILER ALERT: ITS NOT REALLY A CAT.
I love this poem ♥
It's about a poor little girl that has grown up with a little admirer. Who grows up to be not so little anymore.
SPOILER ALERT: ITS NOT REALLY A CAT.
© 2012 - 2024 JustCallMeFade
Comments2
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You're writing again! That's something I was so looking forward to. But enough about that.
This piece does what every good piece of literature must do. It raises questions. It makes the reader think along, raises emotions, be it pity or frustration.
It feels kind of lumpy, though. Maybe it's because in my language, there are a lot of commas and the breathing places are well brought out, and in English it seems to be a less commas the better thing.
I, personally, am fascinated by the concept, and wish for a sequel.
This piece does what every good piece of literature must do. It raises questions. It makes the reader think along, raises emotions, be it pity or frustration.
It feels kind of lumpy, though. Maybe it's because in my language, there are a lot of commas and the breathing places are well brought out, and in English it seems to be a less commas the better thing.
I, personally, am fascinated by the concept, and wish for a sequel.