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Literature Text
The table of contents shows my insides in a flash,
Chapter by chapter, the story changes
With each page, new people
New events,
New dialogue,
New twists and turns
The story progresses,
The tale continues,
Turning back will just show you the details you missed
Skipping to the end only leaves you with speculation
You have to read on,
Even when it hurts,
Even when you do not like it,
Because if you stop reading before the end,
The story dies
This is my story,
Bound in the cover of life and death,
Each page a moment in time,
Each chapter a part of my life,
Each act a stage of life
I am an open book.
Literature
Welcome to my Mind
Welcome to my mind
Is it safe?
Is it happy?
Or is it dark?
I cannot tell you, nor can my mind.
Good luck with what you find.
From each corner grows
Something exciting, something new
Creating is what I do.
Though for each light bulb corner
There is a shadow.
Control them?
No, I've tried.
The battle rages on forever inside.
All I can hope
Or all I can do
Is balance the demons, with creation anew.
- Jon D. B.
Literature
Your Journey is You
If only I didn't go to a mental hospital,
If only I never picked up a razor blade,
If I had not talked to Jake,
If I didn't punch my sister in the face,
If only I didn't fail my math class,
If I had done my best,
If I never did homeschooling,
If only I stopped my anxiety before it took over me,
If my mom never went to a domestic violence shelter,
If my dad wasn't a fucking narcissist,
If only I was really outgoing then,
If I had more friends then,
If I hadn't thrown a tantrum in the ER,
If only my parents had me go to kindergarten,
If only I didn't fall in a fucking fountain when I was a kid.
Fuck it. No regrets. It has made
Literature
Lost Song
I used to think myself grand in the face of the abstract.
I thought myself a poet, a knitter of words which together would create something like music to the eyes, drumming its rhythm in time with heartbeats and telling stories of love that almost was—of heartbreak that was very real at the time, and of thoughts that then seemed profound but—looking back—are laughable.
And I missed the words. They always seemed one step (or several steps—perhaps miles) ahead of me, and I wanted to run after them, to delve into their secrets and wade in their meanings. Alas, I was not worthy then, nor now, and whether or not I can eve
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Lately I've been talking to a lot of friends about how a chapter of my life is ending, and it inspired this.
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