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Daily Deviation
Daily Deviation
February 27, 2014
Reverse Poem by Dracosphere shows us there really are two sides to every story, or poem as it happens.
Featured by inknalcohol
Suggested by GenericArtistNumber1
Literature Text
I will never be accepted by my peers
Because it’s a lie to say that
It is my right to be an original person
My flaws do not define me
Is a lie
I am not beautiful
I am not perfect
Because I refuse to believe that
I am worth it
I have no power over my destiny
And I am lying when I say that
I believe in myself
Because of my skin, hair, and tastes
I should be an outcast
And I refuse to believe
Someone can understand me
If they just listen to me
My size matters
And no one can convince me that
I am pretty without makeup, fashionable clothing, or attention
And we will never love ourselves if we believe that these stereotypes define us
Because it’s a lie to say that
It is my right to be an original person
My flaws do not define me
Is a lie
I am not beautiful
I am not perfect
Because I refuse to believe that
I am worth it
I have no power over my destiny
And I am lying when I say that
I believe in myself
Because of my skin, hair, and tastes
I should be an outcast
And I refuse to believe
Someone can understand me
If they just listen to me
My size matters
And no one can convince me that
I am pretty without makeup, fashionable clothing, or attention
And we will never love ourselves if we believe that these stereotypes define us
Literature
Disposophobia
Disposophobia
She had always kept everything. Ticket stubs, receipts, the torn-off edges of notebook paper. Any doodles or scribbled ideas, and any note afforded her by a friend were kept and saved. Not everything received the honor, but particular things from specific events did. She wanted to keep track of each and every thing she had ever done. She did so, on a corkboard encircling her room from floor to ceiling; each day had its spot, and one could trace her life along the wall with the zigzagging strings of yarn that connected each day.
She didn't often invite others into her room, for fear they might displace something, either by
Literature
the 'd' word
when i was seven years old, my mother, tear-streaks
drying on her cheeks, fingered her wedding band
and told me, “love hurts, sweetie,
that’s how you know it’s a good love.”
two days later, my father came back home.
he was missing his wedding ring
and when he left again,
he left a handprint on my mother’s cheek
that she carried with her even after the bruise was gone.
i grew up without a father influence in my mother’s world
and without a mother influence in my dad’s.
neither of them got remarried.
they had found each other and that was enough.
they had found each other and that was too much.
i gre
Literature
How to Sleep and Never Wake Up
The year they discovered my best friend, twenty years old and silent under the heap of her wrecked car, I learned one can sleep forever and never wake up.
That year, her sister, only seventeen, ate magic mushrooms and lost her mind and her brother, fourteen, started running and stopped eating and I didn't eat magic mushrooms but lost my mind anyway as everyone watched my skin, too white to be real, disintegrate before their eyes.
That year I flew to Colorado to see an urn surrounded by pointe shoes. It reminded me more of a wastebasket than the last I would see of the girl who shared my soul. Her sister ran naked through the street a few da
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Read it the first time normally, and then read it line-by-line upwards from the end, until you reach the top.
© 2014 - 2024 Dracosphere
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Loved it!