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I still can't decide if this is poetry or prose

Mercurii, ab deorum labellis, sum

I still can't decide if this is poetry or prose

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Well.
Writing.
I do that.

Even post it sometimes. And even though this is a mainly fic-y 'journal, I'm putting this up. I mean, every time I try to write fic, I start reading someone else's, and then have to stop, because mine isn't as good. But this! This poetical prose thing, I like it. It's kind of cliché, but I'm mostly alright with that.

Well, read and review.



I Never Wrote You This (You Miss Me Too Much)

Wait, God, I can't even take it no more, Everything is heavy but nothing has weight. I know it's a story, added to some literary shore across a sea of words, but this is too late.

You aren't reading this, but you know what I'd say, because I didn't even leave you this ageless cliché, no final note in which I'd fail to allay your worries that you weren't good enough to keep me here. Because, fuck, look around. You can't get nearer than six feet with out digging through ground.

But I can't even take it no more, all these things we've been through together, and it's a good thing you aren't a selfish bastard, because I don't know what I'd do if you left me alone.

And hey, would you mind telling my family that it wasn't enough love because when push came to shove I didn't push back, and I'm not looking down from above, because I don't believe in all that.

But I can't even take it no more, I'm Theseus, Ariadne left on the Litoran Shore, but there's no god coming or you to pour just a little bit more wine into the cup that's still empty.

And I'm Pyramus, you're Thisbee, when you've escaped from the beast to meet me, I'm gone already, but maybe you're not, bceause you're not going to meet me, if it's that far to journey, are you? Good.

And now you know how Iphigenia felt, before the dagger at her breast and her last blood spilt, some rejection of fate, take back the cards dealt, but you've been left all alone, and the dealer isn't around.

Hey, honey, try not to dwell on this as long as you live, and don't wake up gasping with only one wish to return to that moment and make me pay for making your life turn out this way.

Because I can't even take it no more.
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